


Trust the Pack, Trust the Bonds

by Cinder7storm4



Series: Trust is Worth More than Love to a Stilinski [3]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Genie/Djinn, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Claudia Stilinski Memories, Dead Claudia Stilinski, Djinni & Genies, Djinnverse (Supernatural), Dreams and Nightmares, Emotionally Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Hunter Claudia Stilinski, Hunter Stiles Stilinski, Hunters & Hunting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, John Winchester Being an Asshole, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Magic, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Derek Hale, Protective Sam Winchester, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Has Issues, Stiles Stilinski Has Low Self-Esteem, Stiles Stilinski Has Nightmares, Stiles Stilinski is Part of the Hale Pack, Stiles Stilinski's Name is Mieczysław, The Hale Pack - Freeform, Trust Issues, Werewolf Mates, exploring sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2019-08-05 13:37:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 69,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16368602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinder7storm4/pseuds/Cinder7storm4
Summary: Stiles has spent ten months away from the pack in an attempt to heal and train. Did it work?***This is an continuation of my "How Can I Trust You?" series. You don't necessarily have to read that to understand this, but I'd encourage you to do so anyway.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Supernatural or Teen Wolf. 
> 
> Also, welcome to the angst parade. 
> 
> I think I'm going to skip forward to when Stiles returns, because I'm most excited about that, but his time with Sam, Dean, Cas, and Bobby will show up in flashbacks, memories, and stories.

Stiles had never been to South Dakota. He’d never really been outside of California. It was colder, but Stiles, surprisingly had found himself warming to the colder climate. For someone who’d spent the past several years of his life physically colder than normal due to stress, and self-imposed isolation his ability to feel warmth filled him with hope.

He turned his phone over and over in his hands. For a wild moment, he’d considered leaving it behind when he’d left with the Winchesters and Bobby, but he was glad he’d taken it. Now if only he could make himself call home and talk to someone. He couldn’t though. Not yet.

Instead, he sent his dad a quick text. The same one he’d been sending every week like clockwork since he’d left, with a small exception for the first two weeks he’d been gone.

_Leave the ringer off._

He looked at those four words, then decided to send off another word.

_Please._

That done, he placed the phone back on the side table in room Dean had shown him when they’d arrived at the bunker several weeks ago. He’d stayed with Bobby for five months, passing Thanksgiving and a quiet Christmas in the man’s company, with periodic visits from the Winchesters. Those five months had been amazing and terrifying.

His panic attacks had increased intensely. At first.

But he still got up every day ready to face whatever Bobby would throw at him.

They trained together. Constantly. Stiles soaked up knowledge in a way that even Sam Winchester couldn’t match. Bobby told him constantly that he was like Claudia.

It got easier to hear her name.

Easier to hear the stories.

Eventually, he started telling some of his own.

But it wasn’t only his mind that Bobby helped sharpen. Stiles ran every day. He shot the impressive array of guns the hunter had available until he could land a bullseye with every shot.

He still woke up crying or screaming every few nights, but it wasn’t every night.

Slowly, he felt himself healing.

He’d call home and leave a message on his dad’s voicemail once a week, no matter what.  
He’d say the same thing.

_I love you._

_I’m sorry._

_I’m alive._

_I’ll come back._

Ten words. Like clockwork. Every week.

A week after he’d arrived at Bobby’s Dean had knocked on his door and given him a worn leather journal, its pages empty. He’d gratefully accepted it without a word. Dean wasn’t one for words. Kind of like Derek.

Stiles wrote in his journal whenever he had the chance. He was determined to continue his mother’s legacy. He wanted to make her proud.

In March, which was coincidentally the end of the junior year courses for the online high school he was attending, Dean and Sam showed up and asked him to go with them. So, he did.

With Roscoe running better than she ever had he set out, Cas in the passenger seat; he watched Bobby fade away in the rear-view mirror.

Cas. He had been a surprise. Angels. Demons. God. Damn, he knew the Winchesters were the stuff of legend, but damn. Somehow, he and Cas had hit it off, both were curious about the world around them, even if Cas’ curiosity stemmed somewhat from confusion whereas Stiles was just a nosy son of bitch.

Hunting with Sam and Dean was different from hunting with Bobby. By his third week with Bobby he’d learned what having blood on his hands felt like, even if the witch he’d slayed was terrorizing a boarding school he’d felt sick. Bobby had found him later.

_“Claudia, she used to drive away after hunts. Or cry, and scream. sometimes she’d sit by the pyres or graves we made. It ate at her, but that’s why she was such a good hunter, because she gave a damn.”_

_“You think I could be like her?”_

_“I think you are well on your way, kiddo.” Bobby answered him gruffly, but the endearment at the end had made Stiles think of his dad._

_“I miss them.”_

  
_“If you didn’t, I’d worry.”_

_They had stood in silence for a moment, before Bobby clapped a hand on Stiles’ shoulder “Come on, Stiles. Dean’ll want to toast you, and he’ll be drunk as hell when he does it. You won’t want to miss this.”_

_Stiles laughed. Free and open. Then he had turned around and followed Bobby back into the house._

As he sunk back onto his bed in the bunker he thought about what he’d told Bobby. It was true. He did miss them, the pack. Especially, his Dad, Melissa, and Scott. And Derek. But he couldn’t bring himself to call or text them.

He needed time to distance himself and build his own life. Or at least that’s what Lera had told him. She’d dropped by Singer Salvage three weeks into his stay there and she’d offered him something he couldn’t refuse.

She was, by profession, a psychologist and wanted to help him. She’d offered to put him in touch with someone else if he didn’t want to talk to her, but he’d declined. Her connection to his mother was calming enough to get him to agree to biweekly check ins. He was now talking to her every two weeks and it helped to have someone who knew about the supernatural counselling him. It was slow going progress though. 

He’d felt it when he left, a tether tying him to Beacon Hills, his pack, his potential as emissary, and he would do anything to protect that, but he needed to be safe enough and trained enough to fulfill his destiny. Lera encouraged him, and that was why, after spending three months on the road with Sam and Dean, saving people, hunting things, the family business so to speak, he was planning to clear out and spend the rest of the summer under the tutelage of Lera and Graham.

He was ready to hone his spark.

A knock at his door startled him from his thoughts.

“It’s open.”

Dean stepped in.

“I never pegged you for the kind of guy who knocks.”

“Yeah, well, teaching Cas not to knock is a problem.”

“You confess your undying love for him yet?” Stiles smirked as Dean rolled his eyes at him.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“No, I’m Stiles.”

Dean didn’t dignify that with a response.

“You ready to head out tomorrow?”

“They’re not going to murder me, Dean. We’ve been over this.”

“Just keep your phone on you, okay?”

“Of course.”

“You leave your voicemail yet?”

Stiles shook his head.

Dean rocked on his heels, awkwardly working up to something, Stiles could tell. 

“Stiles, it’s not my place, but maybe you’re not ready to go back in September. You could stay you know.”

“I know.”

“So…?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk to them. I just need to see them when it happens. So, I leave the messages. Anyways,” he tapped his journal that was already three quarters full “It’s all here. Dad’s getting that when I get back.”

Dean looked uncomfortable when he mentioned his dad.

Stiles’ gaze sharpened “Dean? What aren’t you saying?”

“Are you sure you’re safe there, kid?”

Those words, so similar to the ones Melissa had asked Stiles all those months ago, were like a sucker punch to the stomach.

“What?” Stiles gasped out.

Before he could respond another knock came, Sam stepping in without Stiles telling him he could.

“I thought we were doing this together, Dean?”

  
“Couldn’t wait,” Dean told his brother. Sam nodded, as if he understood, and then settled on the edge of Stiles’ bed.

“What are you two playing at?” Sure, Stiles had hunted with these guys, fought with them and killed with them, but he’d reserved trusting them until just a month ago. This conversation was getting his metaphorical hackles up and he didn’t like it one bit.

“After that job with the druid,” Stiles sucked in a breath, he’d been injured, not hospital worthy, but close to it by Winchester standards. He’d been on some pretty intense painkillers “you said some stuff when you were out of it. I think you thought your dad was there, but you…” he trailed off.

“Sam,” Stiles ground out the name between his clenched teeth, urging the man to finish his story.

“You didn’t want him there. Said you didn’t want to get hurt again. You’ve got scars, Stiles. Old ones, like you were dragged along something sharp…”

“Stop.” Stiles’ throat was tight. He’d danced around this even with Lera.

“Stiles, I know you love your dad, but if he…”

“STOP.”

Sam moved closer to Stiles now, but the teen was no longer helpless. He pushed back against the younger Winchester.

“Stiles, we just want you to be safe.”

“Unlike with you, you mean?” Sam winced, but Dean could see through Stiles’ pain and fear. When Stiles went to step to Sam again Dean rose, and gently but firmly pulled Stiles back, fingers tugging at the teen’s shirt collar. Eventually, as Stiles fought, the shirt, one of Dean’s incidentally, tore exposing the rough scars Stiles had just below his shoulders on the left side of his back.

As Stiles worked to pitch Dean off of him, the older Winchester pressed him back, until the teen was up against the wall.

Stiles froze up, tensing the moment his back hit the wall.

“Tell us the truth, Stiles.”

“Why?”

“Because we want… dammit we need you to be safe!”

  
The ferocity in Dean’s gaze would have cowed a lesser man, but Stiles simply responded with a quiet “Why?”

Dean let him go as if burned. Stiles sagged against the wall.

After all of this time, Stiles’ self-esteem still wasn’t immense by any sense of the word. He still doubted himself more often than not.

Sam stepped in then “Because we care, whether you want us to or not, kid.”

Stiles shut his eyes.

It was easier to speak if he couldn’t see their reactions.

“It happened once. I’m not… afraid of him… I… I need him.”

“Just tell us what happened, please” Dean using the word please made him open his eyes and for the first time, he thought maybe he could do this.

“I pushed him, like I always did and I always do to everyone. One day he pushed back, it just happened that he pushed me back into a table and that table corner was sharp enough to cut into my back. And then, well, I fell again. Eventually, he pushed me into a wall.” The words flowed out of his mouth, but he sounded detached. 

“How many times?”

Stiles shrugged his shoulders.

“He didn’t push you, did he?” Somehow, Cas’ appearance wasn’t a surprise. “Did he, Stiles?”

Sam reached out, unsure of how to offer comfort when Stiles flinched back.

“No.”

Stiles closed his eyes again.

“How many times did he slam you into the wall, Stiles?”

Cas was confused by many things in the human world, but sometimes he picked up on things just right.

“Once.”

“Stiles.”

“Twice.” A beat of silence. “Three times.”

“How come no one noticed? How didn’t he notice?”

“He was gone to work early. I stayed home. I wore long shirts… Jerry, a deputy saw, but I told him it was Jackson.”

“And you want to go back?” Cas’ voice was gentle.

“It happened once,” Stiles’ voice was like ice but his eyes were full of tears “He was drunk. He wouldn’t ever, not now… not again.”

“I thought that when Dad hit me for the first time,” Dean murmured, keeping his eyes away from Sam and Cas, focusing on Stiles “It didn’t stop, kiddo.”

“This did. Dean, this did.”

“And if it happens again?”

“I’ll pick you up,” Cas’ tone held no room for argument after Sam asked the question.

Sam and Cas filed out, leaving the emotionally drained Stiles to crawl back onto his bed, shivering a bit. Dean couldn’t leave though. Instead, he sat down on Stiles’ bed, waiting for the teen to say something.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” Stiles said after awhile “but mine, he isn’t like that.”

“We’ll come get you no matter where you are, kid,” Dean ran a comforting hand over Stiles head, petting his hair “Family don’t end with blood, and you’re family to us.”

Stiles started to cry at that, and for once, Dean just let him cry.

Stiles didn't call his dad that night.

Dean did.

He left a message. 

_Stiles is good._

_He's our family now too._

_Take care._


	2. He's Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

Derek looked out over his pack as they trained, watching Erica and Jackson spar under the watchful eye of his uncle and Chris. The reappearance of the kanima turned werewolf after Christmas had been a surprise, but surprisingly, Jackson had fit right into the growing pack. After he’d let it slip that he’d returned at the suggestion of Stiles, with whom he’d apparently Skyped with regularly after leaving for London. 

“You think they’ll be okay for school tomorrow?” John came over to sit next to Derek on the porch of the newly rebuilt Hale house.

“I do,” Derek replied, the hint of a smile on his face.

“Everyone moved in, now?”

Derek nodded. 

The pack had stayed with John for over five months, but by the end of spring Derek had decided it was time to rebuild the Hale house. He’d been afraid that John would feel abandoned, but with Chris and Allison, and all too often Peter over at the cottage the Sheriff hadn’t been alone. Melissa McCall was there quite frequently, as was Lydia. The wolves went back and forth between the houses, and of course, Stiles had a room in both. 

John had kept his house in town, but he was only there once a week or so. He was trying to figure out what the smartest investment was with regards to repurposing the property. 

“Did he check in?”

It was John’s turn to nod. 

“Any indication of when he’ll be back?”

“No. It was the same.”

Derek and John were quiet again.

“I guess it depends on what his definition of soon is,” a new voice joined the conversation.

“Cora, what have I told you about eavesdropping?” 

Cora Hale flounced over to her brother and Alpha, laying out across the swing where he was sitting, dropping her feet into his lap. They’d found her while confronting an Alpha pack that had come through the county. It had been a quick, dirty, and efficient rescue. With John, Melissa, and Chris on their side the pack was stronger tactically than ever before. 

“Not to do it.”

“So, you hear me when I say it?” 

“Yup.”

“You just choose to ignore it?” offered the Sheriff in response “That’s the kind of thing Stiles would say.”

“I can’t wait to meet him,” Cora replied, and while her tone was a bit sarcastic, Derek could hear the truth to her words. She knew how important he was to Derek. Only she and Peter knew the whole story, but he was going to have to tell John eventually. 

“He’ll be here.” Derek wasn’t sure where his certainty came from, but he knew it. 

Stiles would be back.

TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW

The roads were still familiar to Stiles. He wasn’t sure why that reassured him, but it did. He drove past the ‘Welcome to Beacon Hills’ sign, classic rock turned up – a side effect from hanging out with Dean – and he rolled back into town. 

He drove past his old house, figuring that his dad was probably still staying in his mom’s cottage. He hoped his hunches about his father were still correct. He hoped he hadn’t changed too much. He hoped after everything he would still love him. That he would forgive him for leaving. He hoped the pack understood, that Derek would let him come back. 

Even if they wanted nothing to do with him, Stiles had started making a name for himself in the supernatural community. He would protect what was his until he drew his dying breath. Even if they didn’t want him, he wanted them. 

As he pulled up in front of the cottage he had to blink a few times. Little things had changed. The garden was growing. It felt like Chris, which wasn’t something he’d expected of the hunter, but he knew now to expect the unexpected from the pack. His pack. His pack. His pack. 

He kept those two words on repeat in his head. 

His pack.

His pack.

He had to remind himself that he had a right to be here. 

But no one was home. 

Cautiously, hiding his magical search from the rest of the pack, he tapped their pack bonds. They were together and safe. He let out a breath. That’s all he wanted. He’d see them tomorrow. 

He dropped his journal off in his dad’s study, which had been unpacked and was well-used. It made him smile. He wondered absently if he still had a room. 

He did.

That had to mean something, right?

Exhausted from his drive, Stiles lay down on the bed in his room. 

His room.

His bed.

His pack.

His life. 

His. 

And he fell swiftly into a deep sleep. 

TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW

At 5am he woke up, sending out his magic to find the house still empty. He went for a ran, covering his scent and heartbeat, not wanting to run into the pack just yet, and then he made himself eggs and bacon. After he washed up, he pulled on an outfit for school. He checked in with Bobby, Dean, Sam, and some of his other contacts from hunting. 

Dean and Sam had overhauled his wardrobe, to some extent. While there was still probably too much plaid for Lydia’s taste it fit him much better than his old clothes. He grabbed his keys and set off for the school, knowing he’d arrive just in time for classes. 

TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW

“He’ll be here,” muttered Isaac as Scott paced in front of Stiles’ locker. 

“Scott,” Allison, tried to comfort her boyfriend, but he was too keyed up. 

“God, McCall, you’d think he was your boyfriend,” commented Cora.

“Scotty and I prefer the term platonic life partners, Baby Hale.”

Scott whirled around on the spot, the rest of the pack froze, because there was Stiles. 

He was real.

Cora was the first one to react, whistling, “Damn, I kind of get it now.” She looked Stiles up and down, in an obvious manner. 

“What were you, raised by wolves?” Stiles asked, clearly a touch uncomfortable with her gaze. That garnered a snort from Jackson who joined the group, offering Stiles a fist bump, which the teen returned. 

Scott was the next one to unfreeze, and he launched himself at Stiles, wrapping him up tightly in a hug. The whole pack, even Cora joined in after a moment. 

“Still a human, guys” gasped Stiles when most of them eventually peeled back, but Scott was like a limpet “Scotty?” Stiles’ voice was pitched a bit lower, concerned. 

“Don’t leave again,” Scott murmured, not caring if anyone else heard. 

“Not planning on it, until college, bro.” 

The bell rang. 

“Come on, let’s get to class.” Allison looped her arms over Scott and Stiles’ shoulders, and walked off with them, down the hall, everyone following closely behind. 

TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW

“When did you get back? This morning?” Isaac asked. 

Stiles shook his head. “Last night.”

Erica squawked, “But where were you then?”

“You went to the cottage, right?” Allison asked. He nodded. 

“I knew you were all together and safe so I took some time to sleep.”

“How’d you know?” Lydia queried. He tapped his chest.

“Pack bonds,” Boyd said. Stiles nodded. 

“But we didn’t feel anything…” Scott commented, confused. 

“He didn’t want you to,” Jackson sat down on Stiles’ left when they reached their lunch table and grabbed the other teen’s green apple, switching it with his red apple, before he started to eat. Stiles murmured a thank you as if this was a daily occurrence, but it made Scott even more confused. 

“Why not?” Scott could hear the whine in his voice, but he didn’t care, as Cora took up the spot on Stiles’ right, he found himself across from his best friend. 

“He’s been travelling all week to get back in time McCall, cut him some slack,” groused Jackson.

“Jax, chill,” Stiles told the other werewolf, looking at Scott he nodded, “I was down south for a job, and wanted to get back in time. It took a lot of time.”

“So, wait, you haven’t seen your dad yet?” Scott pressed. 

Stiles shook his head. 

“He was working a late shift,” Erica interjected.

“I figured.” Stiles bit his lip then asked, “How is he?”

“Good. Really good.” Isaac replied cheerily, “He missed you though.” He paused for a beat, “We all did.”

“I missed you all too,” Stiles said, losing interest in his food as tension and anxiety started to swirl in his stomach. A hand on his anchored him back to the present, Lydia had reached over to squeeze his hand “We know you had to go.”

“Damn right,” murmured Jackson. 

Stiles smiled and found his hunger returning, just a bit. He picked up the apple Jackson had placed on his tray and bite into it, relishing the crunch. 

TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW

John was just getting back from work, tired, but satisfied with how the shift had gone. It was only as he walked toward the door that he noticed tire tracks next to the cruiser. He wondered if he’d missed one of the pack stopping by, but he checked his phone and all he saw was his weekly text from Stiles. 

Wait. No. That wasn’t a weekly text. This one was from early that morning. 

Hope the shift is going well. 

Confused, John walked into the house and headed to his office to lock up his gun. 

That’s where he saw it. 

The journal.

It wasn’t one of Claudia’s. He paused wondering if he should call Derek. Anyone who could break into Claudia’s cottage was a threat to be sure, but ignoring the sensible voice in his head that told him to call his alpha now, he picked up the book. 

He didn’t drop dead, so he figured that was a good sign. 

As he flipped open the book, he dialled Derek, but then he froze. 

“Hey John? Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

John couldn’t answer. He could barely breathe.

“John? Where are you? What’s going on?”

“Stiles,” John whispered, eyes tracing every letter on the page.

“What about him? John?!”

Screw it, Derek thought. He ran out of the back door of the house, heading to the cottage. He burst in the door several minutes later, John still frozen in place. Derek hung up the Sheriff’s phone, then guided him to a chair. 

“John, what?”

John held up the book. “It’s his. He’s here.”

Derek cringed, not wanting to tell the Sheriff that it was just his fatigue and hope making him feel that way, until John waved the journal in front of him. He could smell it then.

Stiles.

Mate. 

Stiles was here. Or at least had been.

Derek pulled out his phone, dialling Isaac’s number. 

“Sup, Derek?” The werewolf was on spare with Lydia and Erica.

“Is Stiles at school?”

“Shit,” Isaac replied. 

“Really?” Derek’s voice was tinged with warning.

“Yeah. He showed up this morning, said he drove through the night, crashed at the cottage then showed up.”

“How many classes left on your schedules today?”

“We’ll all be done in another 20 minutes or so.”

“Bring him back to the cottage. He needs to see his dad.”

“Uh,”

“Isaac.”

“Okay. Will do.”

Derek hung up. John looked at him. 

“He’s back.”

John smiled, sinking back into his chair. 

“He’s back.” 

The pack bonds tingled with happiness and anticipation.

TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW

As Stiles put his books away Isaac sidled up, “So, umm…”

“Derek called, right?”

Isaac looked surprised. He nodded. 

“It’s okay, Isaac” Stiles ran a hand over the teen’s hair, ruffling it. 

Isaac leaned into the touch. He’d missed Stiles’ presence. 

“He’s at the cottage?”

“Just your dad, I think…”

“No worries, pup. I’ll head over now.”

“Head over where?” Allison asked. 

“The cottage. I need to talk to dad.” Allison nodded.

“We’ll see you later then.”

Scott looked like he wanted to ask if he could join, but Erica and Boyd both slapped their hands over his mouth. Stiles laughed and after another big pack hug, he started Roscoe and headed over to see his father for the first time in ten months. 

TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW

It took everything in Derek to not ask to stay around and see Stiles. But the teen needed to see his dad. John and Stiles needed to see each other without other people around. So, after waiting until he heard the Jeep coming up the drive he headed out of the back door of the house. 

He didn’t hang around to catch a whiff of Stiles. 

Right?

Well, maybe.

But no one had to know except him.

TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW

John paced back and forth in the front hallway, waiting. 

He was nervous. 

He wanted Stiles back. But did Stiles want to be back.

What about everything they’d left unresolved? What about that night? What about…

“Dad?”  
Stiles opened the door to find his dad pacing, feverishly. 

“Dad?” his voice was suddenly smaller and quieter than usual.

John froze then turned to see, Stiles. 

His son was wearing new clothes. He was tanned, just a bit. His hair was longer too. 

“Mica?”

John could hardly believe his eyes. He flicked his fingers absently to count them off. Stiles stepped forward, grabbing his hand. 

“It’s me. I’m here. I’m sorry.”

John pulled him into a hug, cutting off his apologies. 

They clung to each other. 

Their tears intermingled, but they didn’t let each other go. 

They wouldn’t let each other go again, not for a long time.


	3. That Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and John finally hash out what happened that night. 
> 
> Stiles has forgiven his father, but John won't forgive himself so easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural. 
> 
> *Child abuse is depicted in this chapter. I'm going to call a spade a spade.

Logically, John knew he would have to let go of his son. Eventually, but you see, his mind and his heart were completely at odds at the moment.

Stiles wanted to keep his dad close. Keep him safe. He didn’t want to let go, because when they did they would have to talk. He would have to tell him.

But all good things must come to an end.

“Dad,” Stiles’ voice sounded strained, sad, and John finally let him go, stepping back to really look at the boy, no, the man in front of him “We need to talk.”

John nodded.

Stiles led him downstairs to his mother’s workshop, the shade having disappeared several months after his departure. The room was in order, at least more so than the last time Stiles had been here. He didn’t want to have this conversation in his room, or the living room. He didn’t want to taint those places.

Idly, he twitched his fingers, conjuring two chairs for them to sit in. He didn’t think he could handle sitting beside his dad on a couch for this conversation.  
“So, you’ve learned how to manage it?” Stiles knew his father was referring to his magic.

“I spent a few months with Lera and Graham. They helped me with it.”

Stiles sat down, not looking at his dad, instead he found his hands exceedingly interesting.

John lowered himself in the chair opposite his son. Waiting. Waiting to see if he had deprived himself of any chance to be close to his son again without even knowing it.

Stiles didn’t know where to start, so he just started talking.

“Dean didn’t want me coming back. Neither did Sam or Cas. Probably Bobby too. I was high on painkillers about three months ago after a job and I said some stuff to them. It freaked Dean out, and well, there’s not much that bothers him.”

John waited. Tension in every line of his body.

“I told them that I had to come back. That I needed you, and I do, but they won’t let me stay past a few days if we don’t have this talk. And for whatever reason, they catch me out in my lies and I really, really want to stop lying, especially to the people I care about.” Stiles rubbed the back of his neck.

“How much do you know?”

“I’m going to answer that,” John replied, voice soft “because then you’ll work from that, Stiles.”

Stiles sighed. Hands clenching into fists then he released them. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t…

“How old were you?”

The abruptness of the question startled a response out of him.

“Eight… almost nine.”

“What month did it happen in?”

“September.”

John had a sneaking suspicion that this had happened closer to the end of the month, closer to… “It was on your birthday, wasn’t it?”

Stiles couldn’t speak. He could barely swallow. His throat was so dry. He managed to nod though.  
John drew in a sharp breath. He wanted to leave. Leave the house, leave his son’s life to keep him safer and happier. Whole. But Stiles hadn’t been whole in a long time, and John owed this to his son.

“What happened?”

“I… I pushed you to your breaking point, and you pushed back,” murmured Stiles.

“Stiles, please.” John’s throat was dry now too. He couldn’t listen to his son defend this, him hurting him, he couldn’t listen to it.

“It was late…”

**Stiles’ memory**

_Stiles had baked himself a cupcake. A single cupcake for himself. He didn’t want leftovers around, because he had to keep his dad healthy. He needed his dad, now more than ever. But his dad was working, and that was more important than celebrating his stupid birthday. In a fit of anger, after blowing about the single candle on the cupcake Stiles had gobbled up the cake then gagged._

_He’d rushed to the bathroom, throwing up the cake and icing. It wasn’t the same. It would never be the same as the ones she used to make him. He didn’t deserve a cake. He didn’t deserve her._

_It should have been him. Him instead of her. Then his dad would still be happy._

_So, Stiles flushed away the remnants of his sad attempt at celebration and curled up in the living room, putting on his mother’s favourite cd, and cried. He must have drifted off, because when he woke up he could hear his dad in the kitchen._

_No, not his dad, but the man his dad became when he was too deep into the drink and the grief. But Stiles ignored the heavy footfalls, and the almost empty whisky bottle his father brought into the living room. Instead he sought out comfort from the only person there, and clung on tight._

_But his father shook him off, or at least tried to. Stiles clung tighter to his dad’s leg, seeking comfort, trying to ignore the smell of whisky or the harsh breathing of his father._

_“What the hell do you want?” John growled._

_“Please, Daddy, please read to me?” Stiles murmured. Reading together was something they used to do as a family whenever possible, it was why Stiles loved books, but John’s sharp laugh at his suggestion cut deeply._   
_“No. Get to bed.” He yanked Stiles away from him._

_“Daddy,” then Stiles stumbled back, cheek burning from the unexpected slap. Shocked he fell, over his own feet, knocking into a table, the one that held a photo of John and Stiles at a Little League game. The frame rocked back, falling on the floor, but it was the table that concerned Stiles at the moment. He’d felt himself collide with it, a sharp corner dragging into his skin as he knocked back into it._

_“Pathetic. Hyperactive little bastard. Killed her. Left me with you,” John was muttering, ignorant of the pain his son was in at the moment._

_Stiles clambered up, trying to make as little noise as possible. He could escape now, but really, he knew he wouldn’t._

_His dad was over staring at the wall where his wedding picture used to hang. He’d removed it once she passed._

_Stiles moved slowly, knowing his dad was in pain, more pain than he was currently._

_“Dad, maybe you should go to sleep…” John turned, eyes swimming in unshed tears, “I miss her too,” Stiles told him._

_“Shut up! Goddammit, can’t you ever stay quiet?!” He grabbed Stiles by the arm, one hand around his son’s hip and slammed him into the wall, only really quick thinking saving Stiles’ head from colliding with the wall. “She was my everything, and now all I have is you… you took her from me!”_

_“Dad! Stop! Please!” Stiles was scared now. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t move though, the more he squirmed the more his father’s grip tightened and his back connected to the wall twice more before his father dropped him._

_Stiles was crying openly now, laying on the ground, feeling something wet spread out over his left shoulder._

_“Shut up,” John growled, “Can’t even do that right, can you?” Eventually, his heavy footfalls sounded on the stairs and Stiles sensed rather than heard his father pass out in his room._

_He was still on the ground. He couldn’t move. No, he didn’t want to move. But he had to. He had to clean things up. He had to, because he’d promised his mom to look out for his dad._

_He’d bleached the carpet._

_He’d righted the table._

_He’d thrown out his shirt, stained with blood on the back._

_He’d bandaged his shoulder as best as he could and then he’d curled up in his room, unable to sleep past dawn._

_He’d left for Scott’s then. He’d had Melissa pick him up that night._

_He’d avoided the station._

_He’d ducked Jerry’s questioning._

_His dad still drank, but it was never that bad. Never again._

_And when, after a few weeks, John remembered Jerry telling him that Stiles and Jackson had an altercation Stiles had lied about it._

_He’d stopped taking his shirt off, even for the pool, citing facts about skin cancer, pale skin, and sunburns to people who made fun of him._

_He’d stayed away as long as possible and then he’d come back, and his father never brought it up. He didn’t remember._

_One day he asked about the fractured picture frame, almost sending Stiles into a panic attack._

_But Stiles had kept it from him._

_He’d kept his secret until now._

**End of Stiles’ memory**

You could hear a pin drop in the room.

Idly, Stiles wondered if they’d both stopped breathing. He wondered if his dad would kick him out, for lying, for hiding this. He wondered if he’d ever be allowed to hug his dad again. If he’d ruined everything by wanting to heal.

John had never truly considered eating his own gun until he heard Stiles’ story. Until he heard his son, in a detached, soft voice relate what had happened between them all of those years ago. His face was wet with silent tears he was unaware he’d been crying.

“Can I see?”

Stiles’ eyes flickered up to him, and when he made a move to step over, to comfort him John stood up and moved back. Stiles stopped, then nodded.  
He pulled off his shirt and turned around.

The first thing John noticed was that his son had marks all over his body.

He gave a small gasp.

“Side effects of running with wolves,” whispered Stiles.

John stepped closer, eyes finding the scars, the ones several days ago that Dean had also exposed.

As if his hand had a mind of its own, he reached out to touch the scars, lightly. “Or monsters,” John replied, voice thick and brimming with self-hatred.

At that Stiles whirled around, heat in his eyes. “No, you don’t get to say that. Not now, not ever. I forgave you for this a long time ago.”

“You shouldn’t…”

“Do not try to take my agency away from me,” Stiles was angry now, his fury coiled and poised to strike down any counter-arguments from his father “It is my body and it is my decision to forgive you.”

“Stiles, this isn’t a rap on the knuckles, this is criminal…”

“And I don’t give a damn!” Stiles gripped his father by the shoulders, stronger than he’d been when he’d left, John noted “I need you in my life. I won’t lose you. I can’t” and his voice cracked over the last two words.

They stood there for a few seconds, until Stiles let him go, pulling away to toss his shirt back on.

John noticed a flash of ink on his chest, but said nothing. It wasn’t his place to determine what Stiles did with his own body.

“I know, I know I’ve had longer to deal with this than you. I know you won’t let this go easily. But I need you to know that I forgive you. I need you to know and accept that, Dad.”

John nodded, unsure of what words he would speak if he opened his mouth.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for all the hell I put you through, Dad,” Stiles said then, wrapping his arms around himself, suddenly feeling that irrational cold he’d encountered before again. Then he turned on his heel and left, needing to get out.

So, Stiles ran out into the Preserve and John sank down onto the floor of the workshop and cried.


	4. You can cut the tomatoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Stiles reunite. 
> 
> John makes some baby steps to be closer to Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

Stiles almost fell flat on his face as he bolted out of the back of the cottage, but his new and improved reflexes helped him catch himself in time. He didn’t need anyone to steady him. 

That didn’t mean Derek hadn’t started moving toward him the moment he’d heard the teen’s heartbeat enter the main area of the house. He had hadn’t been able to stay away. It was almost intoxicating to just be in the presence of his mate, but when Stiles emerged from the back door, a mess of emotions whirling around him Derek could barely keep himself from exiting the treeline and trying to comfort Stiles. 

He was surprised to see Stiles take off into the trees. 

Derek didn’t hesitate in his pursuit. 

He noticed things as they ran. Not only was Stiles decidedly more fit than he had been when he’d left his hair was also longer. His face was freshly shaved implying that he had to shave at least every few days. The thought of Stiles with scruff was stupidly attractive, but Derek wrenched himself away from those thoughts. 

Stiles’ heart was steadier now, but the whirlwind of emotions hadn’t abated yet. Derek could taste the teen’s guilt, thick and sour in the air. He could feel Stiles’ sadness, heavy and dark, weighing him down like an unwelcome blanket. 

Eventually, Stiles began to slow down, finally gasping a bit as he slowed and began to pace the clearing he’d arrived in, allowing his breathing and heartbeat to regulate. There was something familiar about the clearing, but Derek couldn’t figure out when he’d been here before. Or he couldn’t until Stiles went to his knees, and a tree stump appeared. 

The teen placed his palms on the Nemeton, whispering something that Derek could hear, but not understand. After Stiles finished speaking the stump was enveloped in purple light and the glow, emanating from Stiles spread out into the ground. Derek could feel it pass beneath his feet. It was infiltrating the forest, his forest, but Stiles’ voice interrupted his train of thought. 

“It won’t hurt the forest, Sourwolf.” Stiles’ voice was happy, but the guilt and sadness still clouded around him. Derek wanted that gone, so he walked out from the trees and headed straight to Stiles. The teen drew himself up from the ground, brushing his hands over the plaid he was wearing.

“You run quietly.” 

If he could have, Derek would have happily sunk into the ground and stayed there. He saw Stiles for the first time in ten months and that was what he came out with? 

Stiles laughed. 

Well, it really wasn’t that bad if it made Stiles laugh thought Derek. 

“Yeah, I picked up a few things on the road.”

Derek stepped a little closer to the Nemeton and fluttered his fingers “That was obvious.”

Stiles smiled at him, a bit hesitantly “Yeah, I trained it as much as possible just in case you know, the… your pack might need it.”

Derek stopped just out of arm’s reach for Stiles, eyes narrowing “You’re still pack, Stiles.”

Some of the tension and guilt in the air lessened. 

“Thank God,” murmured Stiles, who shut his eyes and dropped his head. 

Derek moved closer, close enough to tip Stiles’ chin up. Stiles’ amber eyes met his green ones and Derek’s wolf crooned in his chest. “You’ll always be pack to me, to us.”

“Thanks, Alpha.” Operating on instinct Derek opened his arms and suddenly, Stiles was there, tucked up against him like he belonged there. He did. 

They stood like that for a minute or two. 

“Are you feeling better now?” Derek murmured.

“Hmm?” Stiles had lost himself in the warmth of Derek’s hug, then he shook himself out of it, and stepped back, trying to keep himself from feeling sad about stepping away from the safety of Derek’s hug. 

“You left the cottage like a bat out of hell,” said Derek, trying to recover his tougher persona to make up for the softness he’d just let himself indulge in with Stiles. The smell of guilt nearly overwhelmed him as Stiles turned to the side, looking away from him. 

“Stiles?”

“Dad and I had something to sort out, something I could’ve gone my whole life without revisiting, but I wouldn’t have been able to stay if we hadn’t talked. But, think I might have just screwed up all of the peace he had when I was gone,” Stiles ran his hand aggressively through his hair.   
“I don’t think he was really peaceful the whole time you were gone,” Derek replied, “Not that he wasn’t, he just missed you a lot.”

Stiles grimaced, “I know. I could feel it.” He tapped his chest “When you guys dealt with the Alpha pack I almost flew back I was so worried.”

“You could feel them?” Derek looked at him in wonder “But I, we couldn’t.”

Stiles nodded, “I didn’t want you to. My Spark’s got a thing for helping me hide.”

Derek wasn’t sure how he felt about that, so he chose to raise an unimpressed eyebrow at Stiles who acknowledged his emotions with a nod. “It’ll be okay,” Derek told him.

“Yeah, yeah. I hope so.” Stiles replied, “I just want to be a family with him again.”

“You will.”

Stiles huffed out a laugh. “Thanks, Der, but don’t make promises you can’t keep. We should head back.” 

He started to jog off, leaving Derek to watch him for a moment. “I meant it,” Derek whispered to the empty forest.

Derek caught up with Stiles near the treeline. “Do you want to see the house?” Derek was shy, and Stiles wanted to tease him about it, but instead he found his heart softening. 

“I’d love to, Sourwolf.”

Derek was tempted for a moment to grab Stiles’ hand swinging by the teen’s side, but he refrained from it, just barely. 

They approached the newly rebuilt Hale house from the backyard, but even from that view Stiles was floored. He whistled, catching Derek’s attention. “Damn, Der. It’s amazing.”

Derek’s wolf was beyond happy. He was barely keeping himself from smiling. 

“Thank you, Stiles.”

Stiles walked over to the back porch, tapping the wood with his foot, “Oak? And Rowan?” he asked. 

“Since when do you know wood?” 

“Good to know you haven’t grown past the stalker creeper stage, Peter.” Stiles snarked at the older wolf who appeared at the back door of the house, “As for your question,” Stiles waggled his eyebrows, “are you sure you’d like to know?” 

Peter laughed at Stiles’ implication and then stepped down to hug the teen, who accepted the hug, surprised, but pleased with Peter’s actions. “It’s good to see you, pup.”

“I’m happy to be home, Peter.”

“We’re happy to have you back,” Chris had appeared at Peter’s back and pulled Stiles in for a hug after Peter let him go. 

“Good to see you, Chris.”

“You too, kid. You’ve been doing well.” Stiles quirked an eyebrow at him, then nodded in understanding, Chris had obviously become privilege to some of his exploits. 

“That’s some sweet praise coming from you, Argent.”

“Well, it doesn’t come unearned, Stilinski.” Chris bumped Stiles with his shoulder. “Come on in, Melissa will want to see you and she’s coming by soon.”

Stiles walked through the door, finding himself hug attacked by Erica and Isaac as soon as he came in. They tugged him off into the living room as he exclaimed over the house. 

“Feeling better, pup?” Peter asked his nephew as Derek listened to Stiles comment on the house and greet the rest of the pack, even though they’d just seen each other a few hours ago. 

Derek tried to glare at Peter, but he couldn’t, there was no heat behind his gaze. 

“You’ll be just fine,” Chris patted Derek on his shoulder, and then tugged Peter toward the living room. 

Eventually, the younger pack members settled down from Stiles’ reappearance and between Stiles and Lydia they got everyone to start their homework. They’d been doing it for an hour or so when Melissa pulled up to the house in her car, John in the passenger seat. 

“Mel, I don’t know if this is a good idea,” he murmured. Melissa took his hand and squeezed it. 

“He wants you here, John. You owe him that.”

“He doesn’t need this, Mel.”

“Well, he wants you here. And you love him, John, so you’re going to be here for him.”  
Melissa exited the car and slowly, John followed.

“For Stiles,” he whispered, “For my Mischief.”

He exited the car. Every step toward the door was slow and measured, but he made them. Derek met them at the door. He let Melissa pass without incident, but put out a hand to stop John, “He told me all he wants is to have family again. So, whatever kind of support you need to get to a place where that’s possible, for both of you, name it and we’ll get it for you, okay?” 

John was stunned at his alpha’s offer. 

“Could you just stay close tonight, I don’t think we’ll be able to spend any time alone tonight. It’d help to have someone watching my back.”

“Of course, John.”

“Thanks, son.”

John walked into the living room, pausing to watch Stiles and Cora argue over something. 

“You aren’t even in AP chem this year, Stilinski. What the hell do you know?” Cora griped at him, even as she realized he might have caught a mistake in her work that would have caused her problems later on. 

“I’ve already taken it. So, I do kind of know something.”

“When?” Lydia’s voice broke into their conversation, interrupting. 

“I took some extra classes to clear my head from studying magic. I couldn’t handle another year of Harris so I passed chem, bio, and Spanish.”

“That means you have like three spares,” whined Isaac, flopping onto his back, and pushing away his history book. 

“Which college courses are you taking to fill up the space?” Lydia asked.

“Always the clever one, Lyds. Some things never change,” Stiles commented, “I’m taking Intro to Psych course and a Forensics course.”

“Hmm, reasonable I suppose.”

“That’s high praise, woman, I’ll take it.”

Lydia huffed and flipped her hair, but they all knew she was pleased, “I’m glad I’ve finally got an intellectual equal in the pack, that’s all.”

“You wound me, Lydia.”

“You look fit to me,” she winked at him, and Stiles laughed, rolling his eyes, dismissing the compliment as a joke, “You’re secretly such a dork, Martin and I love it. Platonically, of course.”

“She’s not wrong,” Jackson replied, knocking a foot against Stiles’ ankle. That made the boy blush. 

“Umm, okay, Jax. Seriously, no need to drag this out, it was hilarious already.”

“You’re an idiot,” Jackson muttered, turning back to his book, shaking his head at Stiles. 

“Words of affection amongst men,” interjected Melissa.

“Hey, Mel!” Stiles jumped up and they hugged tightly. 

“Hey, kid.”

Scott hopped up and over to join the hug. 

“Seriously, Scotty? Jealous much?” Stiles grinned at his best friend. 

“I just missed my Stiles hugs.” 

“Insatiable, bro.” The trio separated and Stiles caught sight of his dad, but Peter entered then, “You think you could help me with dinner, Stiles? You’ve missed out enough rotations to make it your night to cook for the next few months.” 

“Sure, Peter,” he passed by his dad, gripping his shoulder gently as he passed then disappeared into the kitchen. 

“For Stiles,” John murmured, the rest of the werewolves turning a deaf ear to the Sheriff’s muttering. 

“That wasn’t too bad,” Melissa told John, gently patting John’s other shoulder. 

“No,” John replied, “No, it wasn’t.”

“You good, pup?” Peter, ran his hand over Stiles’ back as they prepped chicken together.

“I think so. I’m better at least. Kind of.”  
“That’s a straight answer if I ever heard one.” 

“Well, it’s not like I’m straight, so…”

Peter snorts.

“You’re ridiculous and we missed you.”

“I missed all of you too.”

John paused at the entrance to the kitchen, then knocked his knuckle on the counter. Stiles turned, eyebrows raised. He opened his mouth, wanting to say 'Dad' but unsure about what kind of reaction that would elicit. 

"Do you need help?"

"I thought you could only make three things?" Sometimes Stiles was thankful for his rambling ways. 

"Chris and Peter have been trying to help me expand my repertoire."

"And we've taught him salad, so far" quipped Peter, who then nodded at some vegetables, "You can cut the tomatoes, Sheriff."

The three of them worked quietly. The atmosphere wasn't tense per say, but it was hesitant. But it was a start.


	5. What Stiles is Capable of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's sparring, love confessions, and bonding!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Supernatural or Teen Wolf

Stiles tried his best not to overwhelm the pack at dinner. He wanted to believe Derek that he could just vanish and come back yet still remain pack, but he wanted to play it safe. Instead of talking about himself he filled up the meal with multi-part questions for most pack members so that by the time dessert was finished all they knew was that he had driven from Nashville on his way back to Beacon Hills. 

John watched his son talk. He’d told someone once, when Stiles was younger, that it was tough to believe any word out of his mouth. He saw now that it wasn’t the lies that should have bothered him, but the questions. Stiles questions revealed everything— every angle, every tear that could put a case in jeopardy — if John didn’t see it, Stiles would. His questions were his ultimate tool, and he deployed them with a skill John hardly ever saw except in his most seasoned deputies.

None of Stiles’ friends seemed to notice something was wrong. They were just happy to have him back. But, Derek noticed. As the Alpha cleared a series of dishes from the table the look he shared with John reassured the Sheriff just a bit. 

He and Stiles weren’t alone in this anymore. 

TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW

Stiles fell into a routine of sorts, trying to fit himself around the pack’s pre-established schedule. He still kept to a revised version of what he’d been doing for the past ten months complete with meditation and training, but more often than not one of the pack members found him and dragged him out to practice with them. 

He was happy enough to see how far Derek’s training style had evolved from the train station, but for the first month he preferred to stay back and observe them, until Chris clapped a hand on his shoulder and challenged him to a fight. 

At Derek’s warning growl, protective and unconscious, Chris smirked at his alpha. “You want to know what he’s capable of as much as I do.” He turned back to Stiles, “So, how about it?”

Stiles nodded, a little excited to final spar with someone again. He would have asked his dad, since he’d taught him basic hand to hand and how to shoot when he was younger, but they were still on thin ice. His dad was trying though, and Stiles was more than content to let him work things out on his own time. 

His dad had gone to a therapist for a few sessions, nothing consistent, but he’d looked lighter when he’d returned from them. He’d also been able to sit next to Stiles without tension, which was an improvement. 

“Why not Allison?” Erica piped up from the grass, where Isaac and Cora had her pinned. 

Isaac reached out a hand to pull her up, while Cora stepped back, “Probably because he’d decimate her.”

Cora still wasn’t always friendly toward Allison or Chris, despite seeing how they interacted with the pack. It was a work in progress. But it was getting better. 

Stiles got up from the steps at the back of the cottage “Ally isn’t one of ten,” he commented, before looking at Chris, “Here?” he jerked his head at the leaf-covered ground “Or inside?”

“Definitely inside, kid.”

“Have it your way, then,” he gestured with much flourish that Chris should go first. The older man rolled his eyes at the kid, but went in anyways. 

“I’m not missing this,” Cora said to the rest of the pack that was training. 

“None of us are,” Derek agreed “Come on.”  
He wouldn’t deny that he was nervous. Chris had several years of experience on Stiles, and apart from accidental sighting none of them had actually seen Stiles train, although they knew he did, constantly. 

As they trooped inside, Scott, Jackson, and Lydia came out of the library. Derek quirked an eyebrow at her “I was making them do their science project,” she replied, smiling with all of her teeth. Derek smiled a small smile at the harrowed look the two boys wore. “Nicely done,” he murmured and he could feel her preen at the compliment. 

It was getting easier to be the person that the pack looked to, to be there for all of them. He felt a small spark of pride that wasn’t his own skip over his heart and had to stop himself from grinning outright, knowing that Stiles had overheard him and was proud of him. He was taking a deep breath to steady himself when John and Melissa came out of the kitchen. 

“What’s going on?” Melissa asked him, with a tired smile. She’d just finished a double shift, but Stiles insisted that she come to the cottage or the pack house after working so that they could make sure that she would feed herself and sleep safely. She’d been too touched to argue with him. 

“Dad wants to spar with Stiles, and for whatever reason, Peter’s like stupid excited,” interjected Allison as she passed them, following after her boyfriend and best friend.

“Is that safe?” Melissa took the question right out of John’s mouth, “I mean the wolves heal, but Stiles…”

“Will insist on doing it anyways,” muttered John as he set his cup of tea on the counter behind him, he rubbed his eyes.

“He wouldn’t do anything to cause any of us more worry,” Derek told the duo, and with that in mind the alpha followed the rest of his pack to the training room. 

“He’s right,” Melissa replied.

“I know, but I don’t want him to be right. I don’t want to see that my son has become a weapon for a cause he should never have been part of in the first place,” John was angry, at himself, at the situation, but most of all, he was angry for the things he could never get back. His son, though he was home now, was never again going to be the little wide-eyed boy who greeted him at the door with a hug and a too big smile. His son had seen things, he’d suffered at the hands of those who loved him most, but John figured he owed it to Stiles to acknowledge him as he was now. His son had spent almost a year away from him coming into his own, and this was his chance to get a true glimpse of who his son was now. 

Stiles was careful in what he told them. He told fun stories, but every so often John had seen his eyes take on a haunted look he recognized from his army buddies. Stiles wasn’t a boy anymore; he hadn’t been a child in a long time. Sure, his kid was still enthusiastic and talked too much for some people’s taste, but it was what he said and how little of it that mattered that told John that his son was still a long way from healed. 

“Let’s go,” he said, reaching out to take Melissa’s hand without thinking and leading her over to the steps. He let go of her as she stepped down and they didn’t talk as they entered the training room. 

Chris was scanning the sparring weapons rack, while Stiles leaned against the opposite wall, not looking at the pack, but past them. John made a decision then, and crossed the mat to stand by his son. For the three and a half weeks that Stiles had been back his son had been the one to make tentative overtures, with the exception of that one movie night where John had sat with him, he’d realized at his most recent therapy appointment that he’d been guilty of depriving Stiles of exactly what his son craved. Emotional intimacy and physical contact were obviously things that Stiles had issues with, and pushing him to be the one to initiate things was simply John putting another burden on his son. Well, he was done with that. At least he hoped he was. 

Stiles’ eyes tracked his father’s movements, but he didn’t speak, unsure of what his dad coming over meant. 

“You got a plan?” John inclined his head toward Chris. 

“Don’t I always?” 

Peter’s ears perked up, but Stiles smirked and suddenly the air in front of them shimmered, just a touch.

“To prevent eavesdropping?” John guessed, unable to hide the wonder in his eyes as he poked the shimmering barrier. 

“Yeah, I figured it would be necessary to learn with wolves in proximity. 

He could see the other werewolf pack members pick up on their inability to hear, but Derek and Peter quieted them, reassuring all of them that Claudia used to do the same thing. 

Stiles looked less tired than he had when he’d left. He looked stronger and more confident, in some ways.

“How’d you do it?” John wasn’t sure what made him ask, but as Chris marked out the frame for his sparring session with Stiles there was nothing else to do. 

“Do what?”

“Forgive me.”

Stiles looked at him then, surprise on his face. John had refrained from mentioning the incident to him, but again, he’d learned that was probably hurting his son more than helping either of them. 

“I wasn’t going to, at first. You’d always told me to get out of situations like that before. I had my bags packed actually, even went to go say goodbye to mom, but when I went I found a bouquet of yellow roses on her grave.”

John breathed in sharply. He remembered buying those flowers, bringing them to his wife’s grave, and tucking in a card, promising that he wouldn’t let their family crumble. He’d woken up that morning so many years ago with a pounding head, a hangover to rival any other that he’d ever had, and he’d cried. Then he’d gone for the flowers. 

Stiles dug a hand into his pocket, pulling out his wallet, and passing a folded piece of paper over to his father. 

Dear Claudia,  
We miss you. It’s so hard without you, but I swear I won’t let our son grow up without both of his parents.   
Love,   
Jay

“I wanted to let you try. To let us try. So, I unpacked and I stayed. I don’t regret it, Dad.”

John shook his head, rubbing the paper between his fingers as if it was some sort of magical talisman. 

“I didn’t exactly keep my promise,” he murmured. 

“I’m still here. So are you. I would say you did.”

Chris called out to Stiles, who dropped his eavesdropping shield, and stepped forward, but John reached out, on instinct, pulling him into a strong hug. “Give him, hell kiddo.”

As they separated, Stiles winked at his dad “That’s the plan, Daddio.” 

And John and Stiles both felt the fraying of their bond tighten and begin to heal properly. 

TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW

There weren’t many rules. 

Stiles didn’t insist on any. 

Chris’ were vague. 

As the two men circled each other, the younger pack members were intensely intrigued, while the older members watched Stiles, curious about his potentially new techniques. Chris ducked in first, putting Stiles on the defensive, but he blocked each attack from the hunter with a quiet grace. 

Chris pulled back, waiting, then suddenly jumped and Stiles slipped past him, an errant kick from Chris should have tripped him, but it didn’t. The hunter tilted his head, and then Stiles launched his attack, a blow to the ribs and the side did little, until it became apparent that they put the hunter just off balance.

As Chris found himself falling he pulled at Stiles, and the teen fell with him, rolling with the force of the fall and pulling the man’s left arm up behind his back as he did so, landing with Stiles having the upper hand. 

“That what you got?” he asked, calmly, not tauntingly. 

Chris eyes flicked behind Stiles and in a moment, the teen let Chris go, rolling to the side as Peter jumped in from the sidelines.

“Wait,” Derek, put out a hand to stop Scott from going to Stiles’ aid. They all trusted Peter now, although some to different degrees, and having Chris around tempered him. Melissa had put out a hand to stop John from moving as well. 

Stiles sprang back to his feet, something shiny in his hand as he surveyed his new opponents. 

“You were pulling your punches” Chris accused him as he and Peter approached, about half a foot apart. 

Stiles shrugged.

He twirled the small dagger in his hand. 

“No hard feelings, right?” the teen quipped as Chris and Peter both came at him. 

The fight was fast, especially for the humans, but it ended with a growling Peter in a circle of something that definitely wasn’t mountain ash, shallow cuts in strategic locations already healing on the werewolf’s body. Chris once again found himself at Stiles’ mercy, as he’d thought he had the upper hand, but the teen had taken a chance on a minute opening, and he was back on the mat again. 

“Truce, kid.” 

Stiles grinned slipping the knife into an ankle sheath as he bent down to pulled Chris to his feet. Then he walked over and with a snap of his fingers, pulled all of the powder back into the clear hilt of another knife from an arm sheath.

Peter growled playfully at him, and ruffled his hair. 

“Only Clau, used to best us. Nice job, pup.”

The rest of the pack came over to congratulate him. 

“Damn, Batman!” Erica crowed, high fiving Stiles as Boyd offered him a fist bump. 

Allison slipped over to his side, “You’re so teaching me that jump, kick, twist thing.”

“You’re already pretty damn terrifying, Ally” she pretended to glare at him so he sighed and nodded. 

“That was epic, bro” Scott congratulated him, hugging Stiles and Allison around the shoulders. 

“Are you going to help train us? Why haven’t you been doing that since you got back?” Isaac asked. 

A brief frisson of sadness and fear sliced through the air around Stiles, bringing Derek to the front. “I’ll talk to Stiles about helping me get all of you into shape later. I’m sure most of you have work to finish.”

“But…” Erica was about to whine, but Boyd dragged her away, leading the rest of the teens upstairs with the exception of Stiles. 

“I’m glad you can protect yourself,” Melissa whispered in Stiles’ ear as she hugged him, then she yawned, “I’m going to crash for a while. See you all later.”

Chris and Peter left with her, after Chris extracted a promise from Stiles to go over other weapons Stiles knew how to use. 

Eventually, it was just Derek, John, and Stiles. “If you’re not comfortable with training the pack, you don’t have to, Stiles,” the alpha told him, calmly. 

“It’s not that, Der. I know we should all know how to fight, especially Team Human,” he gestured upstairs and at his dad, “It’s just… I’m not exactly used to using any of this in non-combative situations.”

The phrasing of Stiles’ words was odd, prompting Derek to asked for further clarification. 

“I didn’t just train with Bobby… I hunted with him. With Sam and Dean too. I have a feeling Chris has heard bits and pieces, but I just don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Realistically, John should have assumed Stiles was hunting, but well, he hadn’t and it looked like Derek was at the same place he was. “Stiles,” Derek weighed his words carefully, “Our pack is far from traditional, and if you hadn’t noticed hunters belong to it.”

Stiles snorted.

“I’m not a hunter, Der. I’m a supernatural fixer of sorts, but it does sometimes mean that I hunt. So, if I agree to help with training I want you to vet my plans and moves first, okay? To keep the pups safe?”

Stiles words were having quite the impact on Derek’s wolf. Not only did Stiles want to protect their pack, but he wanted Derek’s help with it. He had suggested Derek, not Peter to help. He was beyond thankful that John and Stiles weren’t wolves, because he was full to bursting with pride, affection, and yes, he’d admit it under duress, a spark of lust. Hey, his mate had just taken down a hunter and a fully-grown werewolf, he was entitled to his animalistic urges every now and then. 

“Of course, Stiles.”

“Cool, cool. We can talk about it tomorrow then, before movie night?” 

Derek nodded, then before he left the alpha said, “That was pretty awesome, by the way.”

Stiles blushed and looked down. Derek was entranced by how that made Stiles look even more beautiful, when he remembered John was still there, fixing the alpha with a narrow-eyed look that made Derek gulp and dash off. 

John, for his part shook his head, and cleared his throat bringing Stiles’ attention to him. 

“Supernatural fixer?”

“Kind of…”

“Well, if that was any indication of it you’re a pretty badass one, Mischief.”

Stiles lit up like a Christmas tree under his dad’s praise. 

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Just don’t make me have to arrest you for illegal possession of a weapon in public, okay?” John gestured to the sheaths that he now knew were on his son’s body. 

“I won’t.”

“Think you’d consider including me in your Team Human lessons when you get around to them?”

Stiles blinked.

“Seriously?”

“Of course, kiddo. I can’t have you being the only one who kicks butt in this family.”

Stiles rolled his eyes as he headed upstairs with his dad. 

TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW

It wasn’t until most of the teens had gone to bed at the pack house, leaving Peter and Chris in charge of the rest of the pack, Derek walked over to the cottage to talk to John. The Sheriff opened the door and moved back to let the alpha into the house. 

Not a word passed between them until Derek was settled at the table across from John, who he noted, still had his gun on his hip, with he sniffed the air subtly – yup, that was loaded with wolfsbane – and the man’s face gave nothing away. 

The silence stretched for a bit. It made Derek uncomfortable. 

“I’ve been told that silent Stilinskis tend to make people nervous,” John commented, his voice calm, “Are you nervous?”

“I should have told you earlier,” Derek admitted, hanging his head, feeling smaller 

“How long have you had feelings for my son, Derek?”

Derek wasn’t entirely sure how to answer, because well, the truth was a lot to take in, but John’s voice pitched a bit softer and he found himself admitting the truth out loud for the first time since he’d broken down in Peter’s arms the day Stiles had left. 

“I don’t have hearing like you, son,” John murmured, “You’re going to have to run that by me again.”

“Since we first met, I just didn’t want to acknowledge it,” Derek spoke again, voice just above a whisper.   
“When?”

“He got lost in Preserve when he was 7, he said he was following someone,” Derek pulled in a sharp breath, “I didn’t realize he was following Claudia.”

John nodded, humming in response. “That’s a little young for feelings like that though, son. I don’t want to dismiss your feelings, but…”

“A meeting is all it takes. We’re mates!” blurted out Derek. 

John’s eyes went wide, then he leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“Okay, so you’re going to sit here and explain to me what that means, and then I’m going to go to work to process all of this,” John told him, he took a drink of water, “So, mates? Like Chris and Peter?”

Derek nodded. 

“What does that mean?”

“Wolves have potential mates, people that could complement them, both sides of them, but finding one is getting less and less common. My parents were mates.”

“Do you have a choice in it?” 

Derek was confused by John’s question.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you want to feel this way or are you compelled to feel this way?” John looked concerned. 

“I mean refusing or rejecting a mate can have devastating effects on someone. You’ve heard about what Peter did when he was untethered by his mate bond as well as his pack bonds.”

“So, this, it’s a way to keep you controlled?” John’s concern spiked, and Derek was still confused, “You don’t get a choice?”

Just then the front door closed, “It’s just me, pup,” Peter called out, and he slunk into the kitchen. 

“I figured you might want my help,” he told Derek, then he turned to John, “There is a choice aspect. It’s not often considered, but Derek is by no means feeling this way because he has no other choice. A mate is only recognized when the wolf and the human sides agree; they will not lead us astray.”

“I thought K…”

Before Derek could say her name, Peter was behind him, murmuring reassurances to the young alpha who eventually got himself under control again, pulling back the shift that threatened him when he thought of Kate Argent and the terror she’d wreaked on their family. 

“But if you cannot be led astray,” John questioned, quietly. 

“Not long term,” Peter replied, “She probably used pheromones to trick him. It’s a strong drug, being near your mate. You want to do everything in your power to make them happy, keep them safe, please them. It would have worn off…”

“My wolf tried to warn me,” Derek murmured, “I had nightmares, but I thought it was some kind of test to be worthy of them.”

Peter kept a hand on Derek’s arm, rubbing comforting circles into it. 

“There’s no such text, pup. You are worthy of the one your wolf picks, you know that. Or you should.”

John cleared his throat a bit awkwardly, “So, what does this mean for Stiles? I don’t think I need to remind you that as Sheriff…”

“He’s underage and way too young for this kind of commitment,” Derek finished for John. 

“I’ll agree with the first part, as for the second, I think that’s up to him, don’t you?” John paused, “How long have you known you were mates?”

“Since he left,” Derek murmured. 

“It’s intensely painful to be separated from someone with whom you’re building a mate bond, except, well, Derek hadn’t particularly acknowledged it prior to Stiles’ departure.”

“All this time, you were in pain and didn’t tell us?” John’s voice was sharp and concerned again. 

Derek looked up, a bit shocked, “There wasn’t anything you could have done. It was fine; I deser…”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence, son. No one deserves pain like that.” John’s words washed over Derek in a wave of fierce love and protection. 

“Yes, sir.” Derek responded automatically. 

John laughed and then sighed, unclipping his gun from his belt, and standing up to place it on the counter away from them. When he sat back down he told the alpha, “I don’t think I need to tell you that I’ll go to the ends of the earth to protect my kid. I know you would too. So, again, what does this mean for Stiles right now? Are you still in pain?”

“I...” John’s glare stopped him from lying “It’s difficult to explain. I carry an ache around with me, in my heart, but that’s not going away any time soon so I’ve made my peace with it.”

“And why not?”

“Well, if Stiles rejects me and my courting it’ll be there forever, a half-completed and rejected bond.”

“But if he accepts?”

“Oh, Derek,” Peter interjected, “You don’t seriously think you can do this for that long do you?”

John quirked an eyebrow at Peter.

“He deserves to experience a bit of the world that isn’t dark, dangerous, and trying to hurt him, Peter.”

“He wants to wait until he’s done college, I’m pretty sure,” Peter told John.

“Kid, I doubt you’ll hold out that long.” John told him, realistic. “He’s like his mom. When he wants someone in his life, he’ll keep them close and wear them down. A word of advice, don’t keep him in the dark that long. If you do, he’s liable to put a few regular bullets in you in addition to a tongue lashing before he’ll be willing to talk to you.” 

Derek nodded, as if he expected that. John put his hand over Derek’s clasped ones “Listen to me, Derek. You have a choice here, right? But you’re here regardless, why? Because you care about him.” Derek nodded, almost feverishly. 

“I won’t stand in your way, but you should be honest with him sooner rather than later. And Derek, you deserve someone good. So does he.”

John stood up, signalling the end of the conversation. Peter pulled Derek up out of the chair. 

As the two wolves headed to the front door, John called out after them “His 17th birthday is coming up. Get him something that'll make him think.”


	6. Of Birthday Party Plans and a Sourwolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia and Stiles argue.
> 
> Stiles is oblivious.
> 
> Derek has issues expressing his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

Lydia wanted to organize a party for his birthday. A year ago, Stiles would have leapt at the chance to have Lydia Martin notice him, never mind organize an event around him, but this year he didn’t care.

Well, that’s not true. He cared. He cared so much, too much. Stiles wanted to believe things had changed, but the memories of his last birthday kept him wide awake and anxious in the cottage kitchen. He was surrounded by pack and semi-masking his heartbeat to keep them in the dark about his true feelings as he tried to explain to Lydia why he didn’t need her epic party giving skills.

“It’s your 17th, Stiles.” She huffed and tossed her hair, fixing him with a look that would have cowed a lesser man.

“I’m aware of that, thank you Lyds, but that’s it! It’s only my 17th, it’s not special or important,” Scott grumbled at him, “It’s not, Scotty. I don’t want or need any fuss, okay?”

Lydia’s face was set “Tough, Stilinski.”

“If you do something, you’re on your own, Martin. I swear. I won’t come to it.” Stiles had lost his patience, grabbing his keys and phone he left the kitchen, ducking under Derek’s arm as the Alpha came inside the cottage. The wolf barely stopped himself from grabbing Stiles’ hoodie and trying to hug the frustration and anxiety away. 

Stiles backed his Jeep out of the driveway and set off down the track. Derek wasn’t too pleased. He walked into the kitchen “What happened?” he gritted out.

“Lydia just wants to throw Stiles a birthday party,” Isaac answered immediately.

Derek raised an eyebrow.

“He doesn’t want it,” Lydia whispered, looking defeated. 

“No, he just doesn’t think it’s real,” growled Jackson, as he went to comfort Lydia, “And no offence,” his eyes flicked to Scott, “but can you blame him?” 

Scott shook his head.

Allison rubbed his shoulders in an attempt to comfort him. 

“Will someone please explain why this is an issue?” Peter arrived, stealing Derek’s question. 

“Well, the last party of mine he attended he was...” 

“Poisoned,” Scott growled out. Allison took her hand away, “That wasn’t Lydia’s fault, Scott!”

“It doesn’t change the fact that it happened!” Scott shoved himself away from the counter where they’d been sitting.

“And really, who was supposed be there for Stiles’ birthdays, maybe you?!” Allison’s tone was harsher than she intended.

“And don’t you think I know that I let him down? Don’t you think I never want last year to repeat itself?” 

“You three keep talking about last year, so what happened?”

Lydia, Allison, and Scott paused so Derek intervened. “Peter take Isaac, Erica, and Boyd to the store. Stiles left a list.” He passed it off to his uncle who nodded, gesturing to the three betas. 

“I’ll come too,” Jackson volunteered after pressing a kiss to Lydia’s cheek. 

The five of them set off, and once the cottage was clear of others Derek fixed his pack with a look that demanded answers. “What happened on Stiles’ last birthday?” 

Scott shuffled. He couldn’t meet Derek’s eyes. 

“He spent the night in the graveyard. With his mom.” Lydia said, staring Derek down, the banshee not flinching, but the alpha did. 

“He texted me, but I didn’t come,” Scott whispered.

“And the Sheriff happened upon him coming in late, or early, I suppose, and berated him for making him worry,” Allison added, when Derek raised an eyebrow she answered the unasked question, “He told Scott.”

“So, you think the way of fixing that is to throw him a party?” Derek asked.

Lydia grimaced, but she shifted her shoulders, her stance set. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“It’s what I do best. I want him to stay as much as anyone else.”

“But he doesn’t want one, Lydia.”

“But…”

“Lydia!” Derek raised his voice, just slightly, but it had the desired impact. The redhead quieted, frowning, but quiet “The reason he was alone for so long was because no one listened to him. No one looked. No one paid attention to what he needed.”

“But… you’re right,” Lydia let out a breath “I just wanted to help.”

“I know,” Derek replied, coming over to her and putting a comforting hand on the teen’s shoulder, “and he knows that too.”

“We can’t just not celebrate though,” Allison interjected and Lydia nodded. 

“Why don’t we ask him what he wants?” Scott commented, “That’s what you’re getting at, isn’t it Derek?”

“Something along those lines, yeah, Scott.” The beta sighed, but nodded, determination evident in his movements. 

“Well, we’ve still got time before Friday,” Scott stated, “Lydia, we should put some options together so we have something for him to pick from, if he wants it.”

“What about bowling?” Lydia suggested, a lighter tone to her voice. 

Allison rolled her eyes. 

“Ugh, no, not again.”

“I don’t know, Ally, it could be fun,” Scott said.

“You just don’t want to step on the wrong side of Lydia,” Allison teased him, poking him affectionately. 

“Well, she’s scary.”

“Thanks, McCall,” muttered Lydia. 

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something,” Derek told them.

“He’s still in town, right?” Lydia asked, tone going quieter again.

Derek and Scott checked their pack bonds, and Derek nodded, “Yeah, he’s still here. I’m going to go check on him. Sort this out.”

“You just wanted to do something nice,” Allison told Lydia soothingly as Derek left to follow Stiles.  
“But I pushed him.”

“He’s not made of glass,” Allison chided Lydia “and I think people treating him like he’s going to dart off at any moment isn’t helping him settle back in.”

“He could leave tomorrow, Allison!”

“He won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“I just… I need to trust him. He told us he wouldn’t, so we should trust him on it.”

“I didn’t like the pack being apart.”

“It made all of us closer though,” Scott pointed out.

“Yeah, but it also made us all miserable for some of that time. Don’t deny it, Scott. You, his dad, Derek…” she trailed off, looking at the spot where Derek had been standing a thoughtful look overtaking her face.

“Lydia?” Scott spoke hesitantly, unsure whether the slow smirk that crossed Lydia’s face spelled trouble or not.

“Oh, I understand now,” Lydia said.

“Understand what?” Allison pressed her friend. 

Lydia shook her head, “Later. Right now, we need to brainstorm the best ways to celebrate Stiles.”

TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW

Stiles drove, allowing his body to take him somewhere via muscle memory. He didn’t care where he went as long as he was away from his friends at the moment. He hated that he had run away. He hated fighting with any of them, but he just needed Lydia to stop. He didn’t want a party, because he didn’t need it. He didn’t want them fussing. 

There were days that he wished things were back to the way they were before, when no one cared and no one noticed. Now, everywhere he went someone was watching him or watching out for him. He’d spent almost a year away and he’d changed, but he couldn’t bring all of that into his life here so he was desperately trying to manage expectations. 

He pulled in the parking lot at the local coffee shop, not completely surprised where his body had taken him. Jumping out of the Jeep he went inside, ordering a London Fog, and as he waited for his drink he looked around taking in his surroundings. This was second nature to him, observing, waiting, hiding in plain sight. Suddenly, he caught sight of a blur to his right and he turned just in time to catch Callie Sticks in a hug. 

“Stiles!” exclaimed Callie.

“Hey California!” teased Stiles, ruffling her hair. 

“I’m not eight, Stiles,” replied the teen, trying to fix him with a glare, but her sunny smile destroyed any hope of her being intimidating. 

“Well, how would I know? I haven’t seen you in awhile,” Stiles told her.

“Whose fault is that?” Callie quipped, “How was school on the road?”

“It was educational,” Stiles replied as his tea came up.

“Well, that tells us exactly nothing,” interjected Jake Sticks as he appeared behind his daughter.

“That’s exactly how I like my answers,” Stiles told the man, who clapped him on the shoulder “It’s good to have you back in town, kid. Adam told me you’d been around the station a bit, but we haven’t had a chance to catch up yet.”

“Not much to tell, Jake.”

“Oh, come on!” Callie whined “Dad told me the Sheriff said you travelled all over the country, you’ve got to have stories.”

“Well, Iowa looks like Ohio, Callie. What else do you want?” 

“Maybe the story behind you being in New Orleans for Mardi Gras?” Deputy Adam Sticks, who’d entered the shop with Jake came over to the group now, drinks for his family in hand. 

“Please,” Callie pleaded, and as Stiles contemplated his options he felt his anger with Lydia, which had been sorely misplaced, start to fade. 

“Fine. But first,” as he and Callie swept off to a booth, her dads following, “You owe me the low down on your freshman year.”

“Ugh, it’s boring,” Callie told him, but the slight blush on her face and the way she played with her hair told him differently. 

“Well, I don’t believe that. Plus, we go to same school now, it’s not that boring. Speaking of which, you can say Hi when you see me in the halls, unless it’ll damage your street cred,” he winked at Callie.

“My cred? What about yours?”

“I’ve got cred?”

Callie laughed, “Oh, you’re serious? Yeah. You’re like one of the hottest guys in school,” Callie blushed the moment she realized what she’d said.

Stiles laughed, shaking his head, “Damn kid, you might need glasses. I do go to school with Jackson you know… So, who’s teaching you this year?”

Callie huffed, then told him “I’ve got Harris for Chemistry,” pulling a face that had Adam laughing and Jake chiding her to be a bit more respectful, “So,” she looked at Stiles hopefully, “I was wondering, if you’d be willing to tutor me again.”

Stiles put down his tea, surprised. Adam, who was next to him noticed the teen’s right hand begin to shake, but then Stiles formed a fist under the table and the shaking slowly stopped. “Uh, yeah, Callie. Sure, if you want help. I’m here.”

Callie grinned, “Thanks. It’s a rough class.”

“Just keep your head down, and do your work. He’s vindictive.”

“Will do,” Callie’s eyes wandered the café and lighted upon a friend, “I’ve got to check something with Nicky, I’ll be right back.”

She jumped out of the booth and over to Nicholas St. James, tucking her hair behind her ears as she did so. 

“First crush?” Stiles asked.

“We think so,” Jake told him, lowering his voice conspiratorially. 

“Stiles, if you do resume tutoring Callie,”

“I don’t want your money, Adam.”

“Stiles,” Adam started, but the teen waved his words away.

“I want to help.”

“Well, we appreciate it,” Jake told him. His gaze flicked over to Callie, who was now sitting down with Nick, “So, New Orleans?”

“It was pretty cool.”

“I don’t think Callie’s coming back anytime soon, so tell us. What was so cool about it?” 

Stiles shook his head, but started to talk. It felt good, to be around people who cared about him. He knew there were a lot of them, and a tendril of guilt curled up in his stomach as he thought of Lydia and their fight. Pushing it down he kept talking, formulating an apology in the back of his mind as he did so. 

TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW

Derek tracked Stiles to the local coffee shop, and after weighing his options ordered a coffee and sat outside, just opposite the cracked window near the booth where Stiles, Callie, and her dads were sitting. He listened as they talked. 

He hadn’t known Stiles had been to New Orleans, but it was Callie’s comment about Stiles being one of the most attractive guys at school that caught his attention. Of course, he knew this, but Stiles’ casual dismissal of the compliment without a skip in his heartbeat bothered Derek. But he wasn’t entirely sure what to do about it, yet. Little did he know his pack’s resident banshee was planning something that would hopefully help push their resident Spark into reality. 

TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW

After an hour or two, Stiles knew he should probably be getting back to the house. As he said goodbye to Adam, Jake, and Callie, who’d rejoined them eventually, he felt lighter. He left the coffee shop, taking a deep breath of the cool autumn air. “You want a ride, Sourwolf?”

Derek, who’d gotten up from his table and intended to duck away under the cover of the oncoming darkness, froze. 

“I noticed you through the window about an hour ago,” Stiles told, “So, you want a ride?”

His Alpha nodded.

He got into the Jeep and they set off in silence. 

“I wasn’t following you, because I don’t think you can’t take care of yourself,” Derek told Stiles after a few moments had gone by.

“Then why were you following me?”

“You were upset.”

“So was Lydia.”

“I saw to her first.” 

Stiles nodded. 

“The house is the other way,” Derek commented a minute later. 

“I know,” Stiles told him, “I need to pick something up.” He pulled in at a small bookstore.

Derek followed him, “I think it’s closed.”

“Not for me,” Stiles replied off-handedly. He laid a hand on the doorframe and a moment later, the door unlocked quietly. 

“Stiles,”

“It’s not just a bookstore, Alpha, but it’s safe. Trust me.” Stiles patted Derek on the shoulder.

“Ah, Stiles,” an older woman nodded at him, “Danny told me you were back in town.”

“Mira, it’s good to see you again,” Stiles dipped his head to the woman. 

“And Alpha Hale, finally we meet. I’m Danny’s grandmother, I’m a hedgewitch.” She held out a hand for him to shake, which he did, dipping his head to her too. 

“I assume you’re here for your order?” she said to Stiles, then bustled behind the counter to gather some things together. 

“I was also wondering if you had anymore amazonite in stock?” 

“I do. Buying for someone, special?” When Stiles nods, Derek works hard to keep his face neutral. 

“A special banshee who I need to forgive me,” he told Mira, as she passed over two small pieces of blue stone. Stiles stands at the counter, drumming his fingers on the wood as his eyes flashed purple, two earrings appeared after a moment.

“Did you just create silver?” Derek asked, unable to mask the awe in his voice. Stiles looked up at him, eyes still tinged purple. Derek felt his eyes flash red, and Stiles put his hands up, “I’m not a threat, Alpha,” he teased Derek. 

Derek ducked his head, embarrassed that he’d let his wolf out so easily. Stiles reached out and then hesitantly laid his hand on Derek’s arm, but Derek jerked away, his wolf whining as he pulled away from his mate. He couldn’t be this close to Stiles and not want to pull him close. He moved back to the door, turning to look out at the street

Stiles pulled his hand back, a cloud of embarrassment and sadness enveloping him as he turned back to the counter where Mira was pretending not to watch them. She passed him a square of velvet, which he attached the earrings to, and then collected a wrapped package from her. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow for payment then?”

“Actually,” Stiles pulled a small packet out of his pocket and slid it across to her. She didn’t touch it. “Stiles…”

“Take it, Mira.”

“This is more than payment.”

“Then consider an investment for future acquisitions.”

She held his gaze steadily then said nodded.

He grabbed everything, and walked to the door, tightening his shoulders as he walked toward the door, opening it and gesturing for Derek to go first. 

Derek stepped out, but as Stiles tried to walk past him, once the door was closed Derek put out a hand to stop him. Stiles stopped just before he would touch Derek’s hand. “I’m sorry,” Derek said, “I just wasn’t expecting that.”

“It’s all good,” Stiles told him. 

Derek shook his head, “I’m not sure why you still lie, when you know I can tell.”

Stiles winced. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to,” Stiles whispered, “Default, you know.”

Derek steeled himself and then reached out to put a hand out to cup Stiles’ cheek. He tilted Stiles’ head up until the teen had to look at him. “It doesn’t have to be anymore. You can talk to me, to us” his thumb traced Stiles’ jaw unintentionally and he watched as Stiles leaned into the touch. He let his senses have free reign for a moment, and he tasted it on his tongue, a hint of attraction was in the air, but what overwhelmed him was the affection Stiles was projecting toward him. “So, you can create silver. That’s pretty amazing.” The hint of attraction in the air spiked, but then Stiles seemed to realize it, and pulled himself out of Derek’s light grip.

“I try, Alpha.”

Before he could stop himself, Derek grasped Stiles’ hand, “You do more than try, Stiles.”

“Thanks Der.” He twirled his keys awkwardly in his other hand. “We should probably head out.”

By the time they got back to the house there was still some tension in Stiles’ body, but Derek put that down to his nerves about seeing Lydia. 

“Thanks for coming after me, Sourwolf. You didn’t need to.”

“You’re pack, Stiles.”

“Yeah,” a tinge of sadness enveloped the teen that confused Derek, but Stiles left the Jeep before Derek could figure out why.

Stiles walked toward the house with his packages, trying to keep his heartbeat steady. Of course, Derek came after him because he was pack. Just because he was pack. No other reason. He shook his head to clear it and then opened the front door to be greeted by the scent of fajitas. 

“You’re just in time for dinner,” Peter greeted Stiles as he came into the foyer. 

“Cool, thanks Peter.” Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, “You wouldn’t happen to know where Lydia is, would you?”

“Kitchen,” Jackson volunteered, as he leaned on the wall, “You good, Stilinski?”

“Been better, been worse too.”

Jackson nodded.

“Also, just so you know, I’m not moving in on your girlfriend,” Stiles told him as he walked over to meet the other werewolf, taking the little swatch of velvet out of his pocket. 

“Okaaay,” Jackson looked intrigued yet also confused, then tipped his head to the side, “Not necessarily saying that’d be a dealbreaker, if she’d share.” He winked at Stiles, just as Derek came through the door, and Jackson watched his Alpha, testing Lydia’s theory. Derek’s face went dark, and he looked dangerous. Jackson smirked, slinging an arm around Stiles’ waist instead of his shoulders and pulled him off to the kitchen, ignoring Stiles’ huff of disbelief. 

“They’re going to figure it out,” Peter told Derek. “You should tell him.”

“Not tonight, Peter,” Derek asked his uncle, looking tired and frustrated. 

Peter pulled him into a hug, allowing the scent of pack to calm Derek down somewhat. 

TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW

“What are we listening to again?” Chris asked the kitchen at large. 

“One Direction,” Lydia told him, as Erica scoffed, “People love to hate on things that girls and young women love, despite those fans making people famous. Be more open, Erica.”

“It’s not that bad,” Boyd commented, “It could use some rap.”

“I agree,” Jackson interjected, “Don’t you, Stiles?”

Stiles wrestled himself away from Jackson’s grip and smiled, “Sure. Why not?”

“Then how about it?” Jackson asked him. It was then that Stiles realized he’d walked into his packmate’s well laid trap. 

“You told me we’d never speak of that again,” he muttered at the wolf. 

Lydia’s curiosity was piqued. “You can rap too?” 

“You could too, Lyds. It just takes a sense of poetry, which I know you have,” Stiles replied, walking over to the counter where she was flipping through a magazine. 

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Lydia blurted out, not as finessed as she wanted it to be, but hey, it just had to be genuine. 

“Beat me to the punch eh?” Stiles responded, “Well, I’m sorry too. I’m figuring out how to be better.”

“I am too,” Lydia told him. She smiled at him and he smiled back. Then he placed his gift for her down and pushed it towards her, “No hard feelings?”

“Stiles…” she started to protest, but he hushed her. She narrowed her eyes at him, but unwrapped the earrings. 

“Amazonite?”

He nodded. 

“For study and concentration, right?”

“Thank you; they’re beautiful.” She flipped the velvet looking for a maker’s mark, “Where are they from?”

“He made them,” Derek told her as he and Peter entered the kitchen, “At least the settings. I saw it happen.” He ran his fingers lightly over Stiles’ arm as he said this, enjoying the shiver he elicited from the teen. 

Lydia was impressed, something not easily done. She put them on. “They suit you, babe.” Jackson told her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

“So, is the moment over?” Isaac interjected, “Because rapping One Direction was mentioned earlier?”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “Only if Jackson does it with me.”

“Oh, so it’s like that is it?”

“Yup,” Stiles told him.

Jackson smirked then nodded, grabbing Lydia’s phone and switching the song, “Scott! You don’t want to miss this!” Isaac called out, bringing Scott and Allison downstairs. Derek watched his pack as they joked around, but his eyes never strayed far from Stiles, and Lydia watched Derek. 

She had plans to put in motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine Jackson and Stiles doing the James Corden Carpool Karaoke rap to Drag Me Down.


	7. Derek's jacket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gifts Stiles with a jacket. 
> 
> Specifically, with Derek's jacket from when Derek was a teen. 
> 
> Stiles doesn't know it's Derek's, but it reminds him of a djinn experience he had while hunting with Sam and Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Supernatural or Teen Wolf.

“So, have you bought Stiles’ gift yet?” Derek had not expected Lydia to ask him that when she’d knocked on his office door ten seconds ago.

“Why?” Derek knew that Lydia never asked questions without an ulterior motive. 

“Because, you care about him.”

“I care about the whole pack.”

“Not the way you care about him.”

Derek’s eyes narrowed. “What do you want, Lydia?”

“Have you bought his gift yet?”

“I’ve got something for him, Lydia.”

“So, you’re not refuting what I said.”

“You’ll call me out on it if I do.”

“So, are you telling him soon?”

“It’s not that simple, Lydia and I’d appreciate you letting this run its course.”

“Is it like Peter and Chris?”

Derek was silent. 

“Well, I just wanted to make sure, because I’ve been checking with everyone else.”

“I appreciate it. Stiles will too.”

“I suppose you’d know that best, right?” Lydia singsonged as she left his office.

Derek pushed himself away from his desk, and walked over to the side table by the window where a journal sat. He’d filled it, with stories and photos, everything he could remember about Claudia, but he wasn’t sure if that was the right gift for Stiles. 

He ran his fingers over a small pendant he’d bought while Stiles was away. It was an image of the moon the night Stiles was born. He’d attached it to a leather bracelet, and after rubbing the leather with his thumb again he knew that was what he’d be giving Stiles on Friday night. Lydia had actually decided on a bowling night with the whole pack, adults included and she’d rented out lanes at the local alley. Derek had happily paid for it all, and he wouldn’t deny that he was excited to see Stiles have fun.

Lydia also had plans for Friday evening, something she wouldn’t tell anyone about, except for Peter, Chris, and Jackson. Derek was curious about that, but his uncle had reassured him it was a safe activity so he decided to wait and see what would happen. 

TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW  
Bowling had been fun. It had been more fun than Stiles had had with his friends in a long time, but now they were getting to the surprise second half of his birthday celebration, apparently and he had no idea what his favourite banshee had in mind. 

“Upstairs.” Lydia ordered Stiles. 

“Do I even want to know?” he asked her. She tapped her foot. “Why?”

“You need to change.”

“And here I was, thinking you loved me just the way I am.”

“Your wardrobe has improved, but you can’t go clubbing in that.” 

“Clubbing?” 

“Now I know why Melissa went to get her camera,” the Sheriff commented, “Just be safe.”

“Don’t worry, Sheriff,” Cora came up behind Lydia and smiled sweetly at him, “We’ve got back up all planned out. We’ll be safe.”

John scrutinized the two girls for a moment then smirked, at his son, clapping him on the back then hugged him tightly “Have fun, kiddo. Follow the girls’ instructions.” He winked as he went to the kitchen to grab some water and brew some coffee. 

He found Derek in the cottage kitchen. “I take it you had no idea,” John commented, “You know Lydia’s doing this to push you, right?”

“It’s not going to work,” Derek grumbled. 

“That’s what you think,” Cora interjected as she nipped into the kitchen, “But you’re wrong, because I helped.”

“Cora,” Derek growled at her.

“You’re coming with us, protection,” she winked as she giggled and then ran away upstairs. 

John laughed at Derek’s face, which was torn between excitement and frustration. 

“You know, most other fathers would just hate me,” Derek grumbled at him “I mean, I’m standing here and freaking out because…”

“Because you love him.” John finished for him “And other stuff, but my love does not extend to anything beyond that, understood?” Derek nodded swiftly. 

“I think you’re doing a good enough job torturing yourself, son, and yes, he’s underage, but that doesn’t mean you can’t let him know he has an option.” John shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m giving my Alpha advice on how to woo my son,” he muttered. 

“Werewolves prefer the term ‘court’ actually,” Chris came into the kitchen, and then he looked at Derek, “This is kind of your fault, you built a pack full of assholes.” Derek snorted. “Also, I apologize in advance, but Peter’s up there and I doubt he’ll help matters.” 

“I can hear him,” Derek told Chris, “I don’t think Scott will be much help for Stiles.”

“You should go, make sure they don’t do anything too” John fluttered his fingers in a vague attempt to communicate something to him, “too much to him. And with that, I’m out. No more courting advice tonight. Just remember what I told you, Derek.” John clapped Derek on the shoulder greeting Melissa as she wandered into the cottage and they set out for the living to catch up on some show they’d started watching the other week. 

TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW

Upstairs in Stiles room the birthday boy was trying to put his foot down with Lydia. 

“Come on Stiles, it’s perfect.”

“She’s not wrong,” Peter commented from the doorway. Stiles fixed the older man with a glare, “Don’t involve yourself, Hale.”

Peter took a set on the edge of Stiles’ desk. “Oops, too late.”

“Come on, Stiles,” Jackson goaded, “Just do it.”

“If it looks dumb I’ll fight her for you,” Allison whispered as she picked up the clothes and pressed them into Stiles’ hand. 

“Fine.” He stormed off to the bathroom, ignoring Erica’s protest that he could change right there. He set about pulling on the clothes Lydia had selected for him without looking in the mirror. He knew how they’d look. He’d worn something like this before, not that he wanted to revisit that particular memory.  
“He’s getting anxious, maybe we shouldn’t?” Scott told Lydia, but the redhead shook her head.

“Not yet. I want to know what it looks like.”

The black jeans felt like they were made for him, the only difference between these ones and the other ones he’d worn was the other ones had been picked out by Derek. Stiles closed his eyes, willing away the memory of the djinn experience. The white shirt Lydia had picked out was tight too, and cut high enough on his arms and low enough in the chest that he should have realized that he had another problem unless he wanted to keep up a glamour all night. The bracelet Derek had given him circled his wrist, comforting, and calming him. 

“Stiles!” Cora’s voice jerked him out of his contemplation, “Come on!” Grabbing the jacket, soft black leather, well-loved by the looks of it, he threw it on. 

He took a moment to clench the jacket, and his brain seemed intent on causing havoc because Stiles would have sworn it actually smelt like Derek. Just like the one in his dream world had. But that wasn’t real. He counted his fingers to make sure. He was here, not trapped in a djinn’s warehouse. He was here, where Derek was his Alpha, but he was nothing more than pack and that should be enough for him. 

Gathering his resolve, he pulled open the door, stalked into his bedroom, and turned slowly, a thin smile on his face as he was greeted by catcalls and wolf whistles from the majority of the room’s occupants. He didn’t notice Derek at first.

Derek had to back up against the doorframe to stay upright, because Stiles’ clothes made him look… delectable. They hugged him in all the right places, and as Stiles moved so did the air in the room. A wave of his scent, mixed with Stiles’ hit him and he swallowed back a growl. Lydia looked over at him, and winked. 

Peter smirked as he watched Derek freak out internally. He had no doubt that none of the other wolves in the room were confused about how their Alpha felt about Stiles now. Especially, given that Stiles was wearing Derek’s jacket. Peter had found it packed away in some of Claudia’s boxes of things she’d obviously stolen from the Hale house in the weeks leading up to the fire. It had been his gift to Stiles, he didn’t think his nephew would mind. 

Scott was glaring at someone over Stiles’ shoulder, and Stiles turned to see Derek, his stomach doing flip flops, because for a moment it was he was back in the djinn illusion. Derek was looking at him like he was all his, but Stiles blinked and figured he was imagining things. 

“Take the jacket off,” Lydia requested.

Stiles shook his head. Cora slipped up behind him and as he turned to head her off, Erica launched over and swiftly tugged it off. He hadn’t planned for that, and his glamours weren’t in place yet. Boyd let out a low whistle. 

“When did you get all of that ink?” Isaac exclaimed. 

Tattoos ran up and down Stiles’ arms, some showed themselves in the v of his shirt. 

“Are those wolves?” Scott was the first one to comment on them, leaping up from the bed and turning Stiles around, grabbing his arm. Stiles knew he couldn’t make them disappear now, but he prayed that for once they’d behave. No such luck.

“Oh my god!” Scott exclaimed as the wolf Stiles knew represented his best friend, separated from the pack and walked down to Scott’s fingers.

“Your tattoos move?” Cora asked, grabbing Stiles’ other arm, her wolf moving to her fingers too. Its golden eyes flashed at her. “Is that,” and Stiles knew she could feel the connection to the wolf in the pack bond, “me?”

Stiles gently tugged his arms away from both of them, he rubbed the back of his neck “Yeah, they appeared after the Alpha Pack attack and rescue.”

“And they move?” Peter asked. 

Stiles nodded, not looking at the rest of them. 

“But we see you every day in the locker rooms,” Isaac interrupted Jackson before he could make the same point. 

“I usually glamour them.”

“You hide them,” Derek said, voice a bit dry. 

“It’s not a secret from the pack, I just didn’t have much say in getting them so I wanted some say in showing people.”

Scott frowned and stepped back, “Sorry, Stiles. I didn’t even think.”

“Me too. I’m sorry,” Cora echoed. 

“It’s okay you guys, I swear, but thank you.”

So, he rubbed his fingers over the leather collar of his new jacket, “So, we can go now?”

Lydia nodded, both in approval for his outfit and for those of the rest of the pack. 

Stiles shook out his arms, eyes flashing for a moment, and his skin cleared. 

“That’s so cool!” squealed Erica, “Come on, let’s show you off!” she pulled him downstairs. The rest of the pack followed until it was just Peter and Derek.

“He looks good in your clothes,” Peter commented.

Derek flashed his eyes at his uncle who smirked. “Well, if he wasn’t taken… although he isn’t at the moment,” Peter swept out of the room leaving Derek to tamp his wolf down. Scott had thrown him a few warning looks when Stiles had walked into his bedroom and the alpha had no doubt that his beta would give him a shovel talk at some point that night. 

He debated just staying home, but then he thought of Stiles in that outfit, in HIS jacket with the bracelet he’d given him dancing with people that weren’t him. He growled and headed downstairs to watch over his mate.


	8. No more hiding, you promised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' birthday celebration continues at a club, but he ends up hunting instead of partying all night. Angst ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some references to unwanted sexual touching in this chapter (an incubus makes an appearance).

It was too good to be true. 

Peter had pushed Stiles into Derek’s Camaro, smirking as Boyd drove Erica, Isaac, and Cora. Peter took Lydia, Jackson, Scott, and Allison. Stiles had drummed his fingers on his thigh as Derek eventually started the car and drove off, “You don’t actually need to stay with us you know,” Stiles told his alpha, “I know this isn’t exactly your idea of a fun Friday night.”

“Well, at least we know you don’t know everything,” Derek’s lips quirked up in the ghost of a smile. 

“Oh, Alpha’s got jokes, great,” Stiles laughed, quietly, but Derek could feel his mate’s nerves. He wondered if he should have pushed harder to get Stiles into a car with his friends. 

“We won’t tell your dad about the tattoos you know,” Derek murmured.

“It’s okay,” Stiles sighed, “I thought he’d know by now, but he hasn’t made his way through my journal yet.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, he hasn’t tried to arrest me,” quipped Stiles, shifting in his seat again. Derek could smell the hint of glamour resting on his mate’s skin. He took another covert sniff and realized that he’d smelled the glamour before, Stiles was usually covered in a thin coat of ozone, even just a few minutes earlier in his room. His brow furrowed, “You didn’t take off the glamour completely, did you?”

Stiles’ heartbeat ticked up, but he said nothing. 

“Stiles, I know you want us safe, but secrets make things worse, for you, for us – for the pack, I mean.” He turned in his seat at a red light to look at the teen who had sunk down in his seat, face half tucked into the jacket that he didn’t know was Derek’s jacket. It made Derek’s wolf roll around with happiness that Stiles was inadvertently seeking comfort from his scent, but the tendrils of anxiety and shame that wrapped around Stiles in the enclosed space of the car concerned him.

“Don’t worry about it, Sourwolf,” Stiles snarked without his usual level of heat, as he pulled his jacket tighter around his body, trying to figure out if it was enchanted, because it was helping calm him down. 

Derek took a hand off the wheel to run his hand lightly over Stiles’ shoulder, watching as Stiles first leaned into his touch then seemed to come back to himself and pull away slightly. “Stiles, you’ve been wearing a glamour since you got back, haven’t you?”

The light turned green and Stiles shifted further away from Derek’s hand, so the alpha pulled back and kept driving. 

Stiles wasn’t sure he could do this, if he could keep himself calm driving in Derek’s car towards a club. The whole thing felt like a bad case of déjà vu, but it wasn’t, because he’d been here before, kind of. He’d been in this car, alone, with Derek, but that Derek, his Derek had cared about him beyond the pack. His Derek hadn’t looked like he’d been punched and unable to speak, uncomfortable to the maximum when Stiles had been ‘showing off’ his new clothes in his bedroom. 

This Derek was a good alpha. He’d come bowling; he’d humoured Stiles all night. He’d even given him a beautiful gift, because a good alpha wouldn’t stand for anything less. But this car ride, it was too close to his djinn experience. Too much, too close, but he couldn’t say anything. What could he say? So, he tried to will his heartbeat to chill out, and hoped that they would get to the Jungle soon where he could lose Derek. 

Of course, while his magic operated mainly on belief his body hated him, and he felt his anxiety rise. Derek felt it too, but didn’t want to push, still the anxiety was building and he didn’t want Stiles to go through a panic attack on his birthday. “Stiles, it’s okay.” He reached out for the teen’s hand as he drove, rubbing light, comforting circles into the back of Stiles’ left hand, “You don’t need to tell me.” 

A quiet snort came from Stiles as he pulled his hand back, tucking it into a jacket pocket. “I’ve got scars, okay?” As Derek pulled onto the street near the Jungle he parked, but didn’t speak. “I’ve got scars so I glamour them, okay. Now you know,” his hands were both clenched into fists to try and hide their shaking “because who the hell wants to see that?” His voice rose at the end, anger tinging his tone, but then he sighed, releasing some of his tension, and ran a hand through his hair, “Thank you for the ride, alpha.” 

Stiles left the car, breathing slowly and deliberately, hitching a smile onto his face as he joined the rest of the pack, who had found Danny. Peter was hanging back, but watching them. He quirked an eyebrow at Stiles who shook his head slightly, and then smiled tightly back. 

Derek was still in his car thoughts tumbling and tussling in his head.

Stiles had scars. From what? From the past year? From running with them? Why hadn’t he noticed Stiles getting hurt? Were some of them from Scott? Peter? From him? A knock on his window snapped him back to reality. It was Peter, looking at him in concern. Derek shook himself, and made to get out of the car, Peter stepping back.

“Derek?”

He needed pack in that moment, thankfully Peter caught on, and just hugged his nephew. 

“He’ll be okay, Derek.”

“How can he stand being back with us?” Derek murmured.

“He loves us,” Peter replied.

“He shouldn’t.”  


“He should.”

“He shouldn’t!” Derek pulled away, voice just a bit louder than a whisper, the pups already in the club so they couldn’t hear. 

Peter grabbed his shoulders. “He should. He does. Listen to him, respect him, and give him time.”

Derek heard his uncle’s words, and slowly they helped him relax. 

“I just want him to be happy, Peter.”

“So do we all. Tonight was a good start, pup,” he slung an arm over Derek’s shoulders, “Let’s go keep ‘em safe, okay?”

Derek nodded, following Peter through the line and into the club. The music was loud, the lights were flashing, but he could feel every member of his pack through their bonds. They were safe. He took a deep breath, and let it out; he could do this, he could be the alpha they needed no matter what. 

TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW

Stiles found himself next to Jackson and Danny who’d emerged from the crowd when his friends had showed up. Danny was pack adjacent, unsure of the actual lifestyle, but Stiles liked the guy and was happy to have another human around them. His plan for the night had been to chill at the bar, grab a few club sodas, and dance occasionally, because now that he was here the memories of his djinn experience were threatening to overwhelm him and he wanted to forget it all. So, when Danny pulled him onto the dance-floor almost immediately he went tentatively. While the pack danced closed by none of them interrupted him and Danny, which was nice. Danny didn’t shove himself up behind Stiles, but they danced facing each other, laughing and smiling. It wasn’t like his memory and Stiles was so grateful for that.

At some point Erica and Boyd showed up, and he found himself in the middle of the two betas, Erica smirking at him while Boyd actually shot him a wink as he steadied the human. 

“Dude!” Scott exclaimed after several songs, when the pack all came together to dance closer to each other. They thought they’d be fine separate, but honestly, it was more fun to be closer to each other. 

“What?” Stiles called back.

“You’re finally dancing!” Stiles laughed at his friend’s comment.

“Damn right, Scotty!”

Allison slipped from Scott’s grip to grab one of Stiles’ hands, quirking an eyebrow at him, and he took it, twirling her as they became a bit of a point of interest. Allison had danced when she was younger, before gymnastics and Stiles had always had an intense sense of rhythm despite his clumsiness. He’d stopped dancing a long time ago though, only Scott could remember when Stiles had tried to teach him how to dance when they were seven. 

Derek watched Stiles and Allison dance as Scott and the rest of the pack circled them loosely. He had to admit, his mate had grace on the dance-floor, which was surprising. He was just happy he wasn’t dancing with Danny anymore, because while Derek liked the kid he wasn’t a fan of him being all over his mate, even if the teen made Stiles smell happy, something Derek seemed to have trouble eliciting from him. 

Eventually, the pack made their way to the bar, where Derek and Peter playfully argued over the drinks for the teens, which Derek won – everyone got something non-alcoholic – and then they split off again, Stiles and Danny leaving the group first. 

“They look good together,” Lydia commented as she and Jackson stayed back, sitting near Derek as Peter left to walk the catwalks above the club to keep an eye on everyone. 

“Not as good as you two would though,” Jackson told his alpha with a smirk. 

A soft growl came from Derek’s other side, and seeing Scott’s expression Jackson and Lydia left their alpha, although the former couldn’t keep himself from throwing another wink at Derek. 

“What do you need, Scott?” Derek asked, ignoring the beta’s growl, because logically he knew Scott wasn’t challenging his rank as alpha, he was concerned with protecting his friend. 

He waited patiently while the beta pulled his shift back from the surface, Allison appearing behind him a few moments later prompted by Isaac to return to Scott’s side. 

“You’re my alpha, but he’s my brother. What do you want from him?”

Derek wasn’t surprised by the ferocity in Scott’s tone. 

“Are you going to tell him you’re mates?” Allison’s voice was equally intense. 

Derek was taken aback by her words.

“We spend enough time around Peter and Chris to notice, Derek. So, what are your intentions with my brother?”

“I want him to be happy. With or without me.” 

Scott listened to his alpha’s heart beat steadily, then he nodded and flashed Derek a smile, “I think you’ll be good for each other,” but he flashed his eyes as Allison picked up his sentence “but if you hurt him, you’ll have us to deal with.” The hunter smiled sweetly at him, eyes narrowed and he nodded. 

“So, what’s your plan?” Scott asked Derek.

Derek looked confused. 

“To tell him.”

“He needs time to himself,” Derek started, when Scott scoffed.

“Dude, he needs solid connections,” Scott paused, “Unless you’re waiting for you. Stiles can be intense on a slow day.”

Derek smiled slightly, “I just want to be who he deserves.”

Scott cuffed him over the head while Allison punched his arm. He fixed both teens with a glare. They laughed, “You already are,” Allison told him, then, deciding the conversation was over she pulled Scott back onto the dancefloor. 

Derek watched them, letting himself bask in the fun his pack was having until he noticed that Stiles wasn’t with the pack. His eyes met Peter’s on the catwalk and the wolf nodded at the bathroom. Derek calmed himself down and moved from the bar to walk over to the bathroom casually, intent on checking in on Stiles, the spark had muted his bond a bit upon entering the club. 

He turned down the dark hallway leading to the bathroom, eyes adjusting to the gloom easily, but he kept to the shadows when he noticed someone, no two someones leaning against the wall near the bathroom. Their heartbeats beating the same rhythm and when the one with his back against the wall moved he saw that it was Stiles. Derek froze, he tasted the air, which was charged with arousal, magic, and a deep-seated anger. The man in front of Stiles turned a fraction and Derek had to blink, it was him or something that looked like him. He went to move forward when several things happened at once. 

Stiles pushed the man away from him. It wasn’t Derek. He knew it. Derek wouldn’t have followed him back here. Derek wouldn’t have crowded him close, gently rubbed circles into his hip. It was an incubus. Stiles had dealt with them before, and they sucked, literally and figuratively. The last time he’d dealt with one it had tried to suck his spark out through a wound on his chest, not effective or pretty. “Get the hell away from me, or I’ll kill you.” 

Derek was frozen, torn between trying to figure out what the creature who looked like him was and protecting Stiles. He also should not be this attracted to Stiles when he was issuing death threats with all of casualness that he used when he ordered take out. 

“Oh, baby, come on. I heard your pack say it’s your birthday…” the creature went to step closer to Stiles who pressed himself closer to the wall, “Don’t you want to satisfy yourself?” The fake Derek crooned, crowding Stiles, fingers slowly walking up the teen’s chest covered only by the thin shirt Lydia had picked out.

“With you? No thanks,” Stiles growled as he unearthed a copper dagger from somewhere.

“Not with me, with your alpha. Let yourself have your alpha,” the incubus let a little growl enter his voice. 

“I’d rather leave my pack forever than sleep with him like this,” Stiles hissed and with that closed his eyes, driving the dagger into the right side of the incubus’ chest where its power source was located. Stiles kept a hand on the creature’s back, holding it up but he didn’t open his eyes until he knew the thing would have lost Derek’s features. He hated incubi if only because he felt like he was killing Derek every time he met one. 

A commotion in the hallway unfroze Derek who started toward Stiles and was quickly joined by Peter whose eyes flashed, “I smelled blood.”

Stiles looked up, noticing the two wolves thankful that they’d just arrived, at least to his knowledge. Derek wouldn’t tell him any different. 

“Just an incubus, Peter,” Stiles replied, dropping the creature, murmuring a few words as the body crumbled into dust, “Don’t worry about it.” 

Derek didn’t move closer to him, hesitation obvious in his body language. Stiles almost laughed, of course, he’d just murdered a supernatural creature in front of his alpha, he had killed and seemingly without cause, not that he would ever tell the pack the whole story. 

Peter had no such issues and went forward, sniffing the teen who seemed to be coming down from an adrenaline high. He could smell the incubus on Stiles, more than what came from having hands put on him. “Stiles,” he murmured, “Did that thing do anything to you?”

Stiles shook his head, but his heart skipped even then. Peter put a hand out to steady the teen who was shaking now. “I’m fine, Peter. It happened before, I’m okay, just a bit…” Stiles kept rambling. Peter pulled the teen in for a hug, which seemed to only exacerbate his shaking. Stiles shut his eyes, not wanting to see Derek and see the fear or pity on his face. Stiles wasn’t sure which he’d prefer. 

“Stiles!” Scott’s voice caused Stiles to step away from Peter and be engulfed by a hug from his best friend. 

“Scotty, I’m fine. I just had to deal with an incubus.”

“Did it hurt you?”

Stiles shook his head, heartbeat still skipping all over the place. 

Allison and Lydia patted him down, looking for wounds. 

Stiles pulled back, “I’m not injured, guys.” He put a smile on his face that convinced nobody.

Peter gently tugged the pack away from him, “Let Derek take him home,” he murmured as he tugged Scott away, Allison and Lydia following.

Derek wasn’t frozen anymore, now, he found himself standing in front of his mate who still shook slightly. “Are you okay, if I take you home, Stiles?” Derek’s voice was softer than usual. 

Stiles hated hearing the tentative tone being directed at him, because it wasn’t real, not real affection. At least now he could fully differentiate between the djinn moments and this reality. 

“That’s fine, Alpha.”

Derek stepped closer, but kept an arm’s length of distance between them. Stiles stepped away from the wall and followed Derek out to the Camaro. They were silent as he drove them home. Derek didn’t know what to say. 

“Stiles…” the acrid smell of shame flooded Derek’s senses.

Derek pulled over on the side of the road and turned to Stiles, “You had to, or it would have hurt you… hurt you more, right?” 

“Incubi don’t hurt people, not in the usual way,” he replied, eyes closed. 

“Sexual assault leaves a wound too,” Derek’s voice was steady.

Stiles’ eyes snapped to Derek’s, a million thoughts flashing through his head. 

“Of course it does, Derek.” Stiles murmured, “I’m not refuting that, but this was different…”

“How?” Derek pressed. All he could hear in his head was Stiles rejecting the incubi, it had felt like a rejection of him. His wolf couldn’t distinguish between all of the emotions whirling around in the car between them.

“It just tried… it just came on to me, Der, nothing else." His heartbeat skipped, "Being crowded against a wall isn’t an unusual thing for me,” he whispered, a shiver of disgust and fear passed over Stiles and Derek stopped pushing. He couldn’t have this discussion right now. 

He pulled back onto the road and drove. 

“God, my birthday is bad luck, eh?” Stiles spoke for the first time since they’d pulled back onto the road, “Maybe it’s just me.”

“No,” Derek told him, as he parked in front of the cottage. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Stiles told him, voice tense.

“See what, Stiles?”

“Did you miss the corpse of the incubus on the floor when you and Peter found me?”

“No, I didn’t. I’m glad it’s dead.”

Stiles snorted. 

“What are you trying to say, Stiles?” Stiles’ rejection of his lookalike had worn away at some of Derek’s control and his eyes flashed at the spark. 

“I killed it, Derek.”

“And I killed Peter.”

“That’s not…”

“It’s exactly the same! You were protecting yourself!”

“Fine.” Stiles closed off, and Derek hated watching the teen close in on himself. “Thanks for the ride.”

He left the car, leaving his Alpha to sit there, watching him enter the cottage. He felt through the pack bonds that the rest of the pack was coming up the drive to the pack house. Eventually, he turned the car back on and left the cottage drive, going back to the Hale House. 

Melissa had gone back to the Hale House with Chris an hour ago, but John had stuck around the cottage, planning to wait up for his son. He didn’t have to wait long, when just past midnight the door opened and Stiles appeared, his white shirt covered in what looked like ash and “Is that blood?” John rushed over to his son who looked so uncomfortable and unhappy no one would have known he had just been celebrating his seventeenth birthday. 

“I’m okay, dad. It’s not my blood.”

“What happened?” John’s ran his hands over Stiles’ torso, checking for injuries. He pulled Stiles into a hug as his son collapsed into him, tears falling down his cheeks. John stood, just hugging his son thinking ‘Why? Why did these things always happen on Stiles’ birthday?’ 

Stiles clung to his father and John let him. 

Finally, after a few minutes, Stiles quieted, but he tried to keep himself tucked up against his father. 

“Mica? Come on,” John gently guided his son upstairs to Stiles’ room and setting him down on the bed. The Sheriff went to get him a change of clothes. Stiles kept his new jacket close by even as he took off the bloodstained shirt. John didn’t comment on the tattoos, which had reappeared, this wasn’t the time for that conversation. 

Stiles took the new shirt, and then tugged the jacket back on as he shivered. 

John sat next to him, almost petting his son’s hair as Stiles figured out what he could say. 

“Whose blood was it?”

“An incubus’.” Stiles replied.

John took in a sharp breath, “Is it dead?”

Stiles nodded.

“Good.” 

Stiles looked up at his father who met his gaze. “I’ve been reading your journal, Mischief. I know what they do.”

His son blushed and looked away, but John wouldn’t let that stand, “It was self-defense, Mica. I don’t see you any different now.”

“Really?”

“Really. None of us do.”

Stiles was quiet.

“Was it Derek again?”

Stiles’ eyes went wide as his head whipped back to his dad. He’d forgotten that he’d written that down.

“My acceptance of you hasn’t changed, kiddo” John told his son. 

“Yeah, it was…” he took in a shuddering breath, “And then he and Peter showed up, it was just too much. And he didn’t want to come near me, Dad. I stabbed this creature and he saw me standing there, dangerous, to him, to the pack…” Tears threatened to fall from Stiles’ eyes again.

“I doubt he was scared of you, Stiles.”

Stiles didn’t reply. 

“Trust me, son.”

“I just feel like I’m two different people,” Stiles said, pulling his knees up to his chest, while John kept an arm around his son’s shoulder, he huffed out, “Or maybe more than two.”

“There’s you from the past year and then you’re trying to integrate back in with us, right?”

Stiles nodded. 

“You don’t need to hide from us, Stiles.”

Stiles opened his mouth.

“No, no more hiding, you promised, Stiles. I trust you. Trust me, please.”

Stiles closed his mouth. 

“Did it… hurt you?”

Stiles shook his head. 

“Did it touch you inappropriately?” he slipped into his Sheriff mode for a moment. 

Stiles shifted under his dad’s arm. 

“Mica?”

“I was coming out of the bathroom and he, it was there leaning against the wall. I didn’t notice it at first, but then he got closer and I knew something was wrong, because it Derek wouldn’t” John wanted to poke that doubt but decided to just let his son talk “he kissed me,” Stiles grimaced “and I knew. I pushed him away and he tried to” another grimace “sweet talk me so I stabbed him.” He choked on another sob. “I couldn’t look at it, because it’s like he’s there, but he’s not.” He curled into his dad’s side for comfort. 

John let him cry, just rubbing his back, and waiting. “Son, it wasn’t Derek. You took care of a creature that wanted to hurt you. You’d never hurt, Derek, not intentionally.”

“I hate this,” he muttered.

“How many times has this happened, kid?”

“A few.” 

John hated to think that his son had been assaulted before and he hadn’t protected him. 

“Dad, I’m okay, I’m okay,” Stiles murmured and John realized he’d said that out loud, “I’m safe with you.”

John pulled him closer, “Yeah, yeah, you are, Mischief.” 

“I can hear you thinking, Dad, what do you want to ask me?”

“Why do incubi look like Derek to you?”

Stiles blushed again. John knocked his shoulder against Stiles’ “I thought you were going to keep me in the loop, Mica?” John whispered his tone playful, taking away some of the tension from the situation. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Stiles muttered.

“Why not?”

“It’s not gonna happen.”

“Did you become psychic too, while you were gone?”

Stiles rolled his eyes and gently pulled out of his dad’s embrace, crossing his legs and turning to look at his dad, “No. It’s just I’m me and he’s him.”

“Wow, that makes no sense, kiddo.”

Stiles frowned. “Derek’s the alpha, dad. A) He needs to find his mate, not a random guy, if I’m lucky I’ll parlay my spark into the emissary position and support him and the pack that way. B) It’s Derek, have you met him? He’s like freaking amazing, and I’m just trying to keep myself together, dad.”

There were so many things wrong with what Stiles was telling him, but John wouldn’t divulge Derek’s secret, even if he really wanted to at the moment. 

“Oh, kiddo. You’re so amazing, and he’d be lucky to be with someone like you.”

“You’re my dad, you have to say that,” then he rubbed his neck, “An incubus supposedly takes the form of the person you want the most… so that’s why.”

“And you still won’t tell him how you feel?”

Stiles shook his head, “It’s not worth upsetting the pack dynamics.”

“Your happiness is worth everything, Mica.”

Stiles sighed. “I just need to figure out how I’m going to handle tomorrow. Another year older and not a whole lot wiser, eh?”

“I wouldn’t say that, kid. You’re better than you give yourself credit for, but I think you just need to relax.”

Stiles nodded, pulling the jacket tighter around him, John eyed it. “Peter gave it to me,” Stiles told him.

“Looks good on you.”

Stiles smiled at him. His phone buzzed then, and Stiles went to answer it, “Hey Scotty! You’re on speaker.” 

“You doing okay, bro?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

“You going to sleep, or do you want to watch some movies? We could come to you?”

Stiles thought about it. 

“It could just be me,” Scott interjected.

“Yeah, that sounds good Scotty.”

“I’ll be over in a bit, bro.”

“You can use the front door, and not the window, kid,” John commented. 

‘Will do, Sheriff.”

Scott hung up. “I’ll grab you boys some snacks,” John pressed a kiss to Stiles’ forehead.

“I can do it. I’m not…”

“Not a child, I know, but you’ll always be my kid, Mica.”

Stiles smiled, “Alright. Thanks, Dad."

John stood up and went to leave the room, "I love you, kiddo."

"Love you too, Dad."

"Also, we're not done talking about you and our alpha. I read about the djinn, kid" John told his son, "But that'll keep for another day."

Stiles' smile slipped a bit, but then he nodded, "Yeah, okay."


	9. Of Self-Importance and Game Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A phone call with Dean leads Stiles to become frustrated with a pack out East. 
> 
> Also, the adults make a game plan to help Stiles, Derek, and the pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Supernatural or Teen Wolf.

Scott stayed over with Stiles that night, intent upon watching over his friend. Stiles fell asleep around asleep around 4 am, but Scott stayed up texting with the pack. Isaac told him that Derek was a bit of a mess, and had snapped at Erica, then apologized before going for a run. He’d had a feeling that something was off between his friend and their alpha, but he doubted that Stiles would tell him what it was, at least from the way the Sheriff had greeted him it seemed Stiles had talked to his dad. It was a start. 

Around 5:45 Scott was just contemplating going to sleep after he shut off his phone when Stiles’ phone buzzed and his friend jerked awake. “Stilinski,” Stiles answered the phone groggily, then he turned over to look at Scott who had his eyes closed, “I know you’re awake, Scotty,” Stiles told him, and then he rolled to the edge of the bed, swinging his legs out and getting out of bed. 

“What’s going on, Dean?” 

“Didn’t get a chance to phone yesterday, but we wanted to make sure you got our cards.”

Stiles smiled thinking about the cards he’d received from Sam, Dean, and Bobby. 

“Sure did, thanks you guys. You didn’t have to you know.”

“You’re family, of course we did,” Dean told him gruffly. 

Stiles kept the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he walked out onto the landing, Scott could hear him go downstairs so after a moment of hesitation, he got up and followed his best friend. Stiles was in the kitchen unsurprisingly, making tea. 

He could hear both sides of the phone call, and since Stiles hadn’t blocked him from hearing it Scott took that as permission to listen in. The Sheriff appeared in the kitchen a few minutes later as Stiles and Dean caught up and Sam related some new information in Latin to Stiles who nodded along. 

“So, what was your banshee’s birthday surprise?”

“Pack bowling and… clubbing,” he replied, frowning at the mugs of tea he’d assembled.

“What happened?” Dean asked, straight to the point.

Scott laughed at Dean’s straightforward approach.

“I took care of it, Dean.”

“Incubus?”

Stiles hummed in agreement. 

“And you’re… he didn’t get…”

“No, he didn’t. Nowhere near what happened in Nashville,” Scott looked at John whose mouth thinned at the mention of Nashville. 

“Tell me at least that your Alpha saved you and you confessed your love for each other,” Scott related this to John in a hushed voice and both of them shared a smile.

“Have you told a certain angel about your feelings?” 

“You’re just lucky he’s not here,” Dean grumped.

“I wouldn’t ever do that to you. On the other hand, you would do that to me,” Stiles griped, “So, why’d you call?”

“Your birthday, kid.”

“And…?”

“That’s it. Although Bobby wants you to call Garth. Apparently, he was looking to touch base with you, something about a chick named Serena.”

“I’ll do that then. And she’s not just some random woman so for the sake of your life, never refer to Serena like that again.”

“Will do, kid. We’ve got some jobs taking us around for a bit, but don’t forget to call if you need us.”

“I hear you, Dean. Take care of yourselves.”

“You too kid.”

Stiles hung up the phone, placing it on the counter as he leaned against it. 

“Sorry I woke you up, Dad.”

“Not an issue, Stiles. How’re Sam and Dean?”

“Good, but I need to check in with one of our mutual friends.”

“Garth?” Scott interjected.

Stiles nodded. Then shook out his hands, “Might as well start breakfast,” he muttered, and his dad came over to help while Scott texted the pack. 

By the time omelets were being assembled the rest of the pack, including Derek, was in the cottage kitchen. Conversation was a low buzz for the most part, until Stiles’ phone rang again, and he slid it up against his ear, swearing under his breath as he touched the pan for a moment. 

‘Stiles?”

“Who is this?”

All of the wolves’ ears perked up to listen in on Stiles’ conversation.

“Garth?”

Stiles smiled, tension leaving him at the sound of Garth’s voice. “You don’t sound so sure of that, bud.”

“It’s me, kid.”

“Cool, so what’s up with you that’s got Bobby and Dean anxious? You haven’t gotten like stuck half shift again have you? Cause honestly, Serena sounded like she had all her ducks in a row on keeping you and your wolf in line, but if that’s not the case…”

Stiles sighed, abandoning the stove for a moment, turning off the heating element to focus on the conversation. 

“Nah, she’s great, but she found some stuff on our territory that unsettles her, Bobby didn’t know what it was so I asked him if I could get in touch with you.”

“I know you’re not actively consulting right now and I’m not asking you to come out and see it, but it would just help to know what we’re dealing with.”

“If Bobby couldn’t identify it…”  
“Just look at it, please?”

“Fine, send it my way.” 

“And your fee?”

“If I’m just looking at something, Garth it’s not.”

“She’ll insist, Stiles.”

“Fine,” Stiles huffed out a sigh, “My standard fee then, sound good?”

“I’ll pass it on to her.”

“I’ll give you a call if I figure anything out” he paused, “Or should I just call Serena directly?”

“She gave me permission to share her info with you too, so sending anything you find to her would be best.”

“Sounds good. Take care, Garth.”

“You too, kid. Good luck with senior year!”

Stiles hung up the phone, turning back to the stove, oblivious to the stares of the entire pack.

“Umm, Stiles?” Cora’s voice made him look up, his gaze skittered over Derek.

“Yeah, Cor?”

“Were you talking about Alpha Wilkinson from New Hampshire?”

He nodded.

“How?” Derek seemed speechless, but Peter was awed.

“She has a phone.”

“That seems to be a constant refrain for you, with Council members, hunters… how did you meet Alpha Wilkinson?”

“On a hunt, Garth got turned and I helped find him a pack.”

“What’s so special about the Wilkinson pack?” Lydia asked.

“It’s one of the biggest packs on the East coast, and Wilkinson is one of the most well-known alphas ever. She and mom were looking at an alliance before the fire. It was a long, drawn out process,” Cora told the room at large.

“Well, it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea for us to start reconnecting with any old allies you had. I can leave you her information if you want,” the last bit Stiles aimed at Derek without looking at his alpha.

“That would be much appreciated; thank you, Stiles.” Derek’s voice was formal, and Stiles’ nod in agreement was tense, but no one commented on it. 

His phone buzzed. He opened the pictures, pulled a face, and then rolled his shoulders back, “I’ve got to take care of this,” he told them, leaving the kitchen and walking toward the library. 

“So, pack connections? Those are things we should be developing?” Erica asked.

“Now,” Derek replied, nodding, “We needed to be stable enough to form connections before we started reaching back out to our old friends.”

“What goes into forging an alliance?” Lydia asked, curious.   
“A number of different things, we’ve got a werewolf customs and rituals book around somewhere that can give you all of the information you want, Lydia,” Peter told her. The banshee nodded, placated for the moment.

“Well, if Stiles is going to be researching today, I’m going to help,” Lydia said and she picked up her coffee mug, kissed Jackson, and then left after her friend.

“Let’s go spar,” Boyd tapped Isaac on the shoulder, Scott and Cora following him, Erica, Allison, and Derek going after them. 

“So, I take it we’re not talking about last night, and why Derek came home looking like his whole world had collapsed?” Chris asked, when it was just Melissa, John, and Peter. 

“Well, we weren’t, but we are now apparently,” John replied, as he drained his mug of coffee, and leaned back in his chair. 

TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW

In the library, Stiles was muttering to himself while Lydia flipped through her physics textbook. A loud noise caused her to look up to see Stiles sitting on the floor where he’d fallen, in his haste to reach a book.

“Not a word, Martin,” he told her. 

She giggled and flipped her hair over her shoulder, then went back to her book. 

A moment later he slammed a book down on the table, and frantically flipped through it. 

“I knew it,” he muttered and he pulled out his phone, expression frustrated, “Bobby, what the hell are you doing sending this to me through Garth? You and I both know it’s a Rawhead. They just need to electrocute it to death.”

Bobby said something that caused Stiles forehead to furrow and then he groaned, “Oh my god! All three of you need to stop scheming. I am useful, I get it, stop with the self-esteem lessons.” He slammed the phone down, breathing heavily, obviously upset. 

A minute went by as Lydia waited to see if Stiles would say anything, when his phone rang, ‘What Garth?” he growled into the phone, “Yeah, it’s a Rawhead, but Bobby already told you that right? What kills them? Electricity. Don’t get too close. Don’t bother with the finder’s fee.” He hung up his phone again.

“Stiles?” Lydia said, tentatively testing his mood, “What happened?”

“They wanted the pack to think that I’ve got other places to go or some shit.”

The pieces clicked into place for Lydia. “Oh.”

“Yeah, Oh!” he exclaimed, “I know they want me safe, but god, inflating my self-importance won’t help with all of that.”

“So, your friend, he and his pack will be alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. They will be.”

“Then that’s all that matters.”

Stiles sighed, “Thanks for the logic lesson, Lyds.”

“I like the alliteration of that, Stiles Stilinski,” she closed her book, “It’s also not a bad thing that they want the pack to know you’re important. You are you know, important. You’re important to us.”

“Thanks for saying that, Lydia.”

“Well, I don’t say what I don’t mean.”

Stiles nodded, “I should probably call Bobby back and apologize for yelling.”  
“Give him some time to stew,” Lydia suggested.

His phone rang then, but the number was unfamiliar. “Stilinski,” he answered.

“Mr. Stilinski, it’s good to hear your voice.” His back straightened slightly and he shifted the phone around.

“Alpha Wilkinson?”

“Ah, you do have a good memory. Your mother did too.” Stiles let out a surprised noise. “Yes, I tried to get your mother to join my pack several times, but Garth has informed me that you’re rather attached to your own pack at the moment.”

Stiles gripped the table tightly, “Yes, I am quite happy with my current pack and I doubt that will change.”

“Pity,” Serena said, “But I’ve been informed you were the one who identified our recent Rawhead problem several weeks ago and I wanted to thank you.”

“Actually, I didn’t do anything until this morning, Alpha Wilkinson,” Stiles told her, teeth gritted.

“Did you, or did you not initially take care of the Rawhead you encountered with Bobby Singer nine months ago.”

And Stiles swore silently, she had him there. “Yes, yes, I did.”

“Well, then, we pay our sources. Garth has directed me to your account and you should have the fee by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Thank you, Alpha Wilkinson,” Stiles replied, voice formal, not cold, but not overly friendly either. 

“I’d love to connect with your Alpha, Stilinski, when he has a moment of course.”

“Well, then I expect you’ll be pursuing formal channels to get in touch with him then,” Stiles’ voice was almost sickly formal now.

“Of course. Thank you again.” Serena hung up. 

Sties looked like he wanted to throw his phone, so Lydia stood up and calmly took it from his hand. 

“Thank you,” he told her.

“She wanted you, didn’t she?” Lydia asked, eyes sharp and appraising. 

“She courted my mom as her pack’s emissary from the sound of it, so she lost out on her.”

“She doesn’t want you just because of that, but you told her off well, Stiles.”

“Thanks, Lyds. I’m not planning on going anywhere else right now.” 

“Good to know,” Lydia told him, “Now, tell me what a Rawhead is and why electricity is the only thing that kills it.”

“Alright, buckle up, Martin,” he turned the book he’d been looking at so that she could read it too. 

TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW---TW

“They’re mates, aren’t they?” 

John looked at Chris, “And what do you base that on?”

“Personal experience,” was Chris’ response, “He hunted an incubus last night, right?”  
John nodded. 

“Nasty things. He okay?” The undercurrent of Chris’ voice told John what question the hunter actually wanted to ask.

“He’ll be okay.”

“He hunted last night?” Melissa interjected, “When? How? What?”

“An incubus, it’s a…” Chris searched for delicate words to explain the demon, “It’s a sexually motivated demon that takes a male form and Stiles probably stabbed it, a copper dagger works best.”

“But it didn’t, he’s okay?” she looked at John now, eyes appraising. 

“It wasn’t a comfortable situation, but I’m not divulging anything about what happened to Stiles unless he gives me permission. Nothing happened that required medical attention, Mel.” She didn’t look happy about it, but she still reached out and squeezed John’s hand, then she turned back to the group, looking specifically at Chris and Peter, “What could make a mate react the way that Derek did last night?”

“Rejection,” Peter said, tone flat, “except I don’t think that happened, but for some reason Derek’s wolf thinks it has, so there’s something that he isn’t talking about.”

“What kind of impact could that have on the pack?” Melissa pressed.

“Both of them are pretty committed to the pack and its smooth operation, so for the foreseeable future they might just be super awkward around each other, but it could become an issue if his wolf takes whatever happened as an actual, permanent rejection. That could harm him a great deal,” Peter told them.

“So, let’s devise a game plan,” Melissa knocked a hand on the table, “No one should leave kids to save themselves or the world.”


	10. Of Magical Exhaustion and a Silly Sourwolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tired Stiles says things Stiles would never normally say. This time he says those things to Derek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

Derek was off balance, which meant he was putting his pack off balance and at risk. He hated it. He was trying, dammit, he was trying to get himself centred and back on track but his wolf had latched onto Stiles’ rejection of that thing in the club. 

He hit the punching bag for the hundredth time that day and he actually caused it to split and spill. He rocked back on his feet, red still tingeing his eyes. “Do you know what an incubus does?” 

Chris had been watching him for the past quarter of an hour and Derek was not in the mood to play games. John had called in earlier about a case that would keep him at the station for most of the night and it was once again Friday. It had been three weeks since Stiles’ birthday and he was still hesitant around Derek in a way he never had been before. He refused to talk about that night and had instead thrown himself into his college credit courses with intensity.

Derek for his part didn’t know what to say to the teen that didn’t make him sound like a possessive dick or an asshole Alpha so he let Stiles be for the most part. 

“It’s a demon right?”

Chris hummed in agreement, “It’s a demon that’s very specific when it coordinates its attacks.”

“Meaning?”

“Who did you see with him when you looked at Stiles in that club?”

“Why would that matter?”

“Because that’s who the incubus thought he had the best chance of seducing Stiles with”

Chris’ words, far from causing a low heat to spark in Derek made the wolf shiver like ice water had been dumped on him. 

“So, it thought that I’d be the most likely person to force Stiles into something he didn’t want? Just because I’m his Alpha?”

The entire idea of that was repugnant to Derek.

Chris swore under his breath and moved over to his alpha, carefully placing a hand on the wolf’s arm for connection and reassurance. “No, Derek. It didn’t choose you because it wanted Stiles to follow orders, it chose you because it could sense what Stiles wants...”

“Except he didn’t,” Derek interjected, pulling arm from Chris and moving toward the closet to grab a broom for the spilled sand. Chris grabbed his arm again, tighter this time, causing Derek to growl and flash his eyes at him. 

“He said he’d rather leave all of us than choose me, Chris. Does that help you with whatever damn point you’re trying to make?” His eyes were steadily red now, and Chris ducked his head slightly in deference but kept talking. 

“He was rejecting the incubus! The damn thing tried to sleep with him, Derek!”

“I know that!” Derek almost roared at Chris, the room was quiet then, “my wolf doesn’t though.” He stepped away from Chris and the hunter let him, “And I can’t, I couldn’t do it anyway... I couldn’t just be there for him once... and he deserves“

“He deserves a mate who will talk to him, protect him, and be honest with him,” Chris murmured these words steadily and quietly, “You can’t really think he’d just want you for one night, Derek. This is Stiles we’re talking about.”

“Why’re we talking about Stiles?” asked a sweet voice that instantly calmed Derek down. 

“It was a half day at school, before you ask why we’re home early,” Stiles told the pair. He eyed the broken punching bag and the draining red in Derek’s eyes. “I just wanted to make sure you two weren’t killing each other,” he tapped his chest instinctually signalling not only the pack bonds but his tattoos too.

“We’re fine, kid.” Chris moved away from Derek, Stiles squinted at him suspiciously but nodded all the same. “Ally’s upstairs, looking for some bonding time,” he prodded the hunter who smiled and nodded.

“Where’s Scott?”

“At the clinic with Isaac. Boyd went with Peter on some errand, Erica and Cora are terrorizing people at the mall, Lydia and Jackson are on a date, and Melissa’s working.”

“Well then, since everyone else is out and about I think I’ll take Ally out with me too.” Chris left and Derek listened as the father/daughter pair left the house.

It was the first time Derek and Stiles had consciously allowed themselves to be alone together since Stiles’ birthday. “You okay?” Stiles’ voice was calm but still had that formal hint to it that made Derek uncomfortable.

“Fine.”

Derek proceeded toward the closet again grabbing the broom, “Hey,” Stiles was at his shoulder now, “I can take care of it.”

Derek turned to argue with him just in time to watch Stiles’ eyes flash purple and the sand drifted back up to the bag, almost lazily, until it was full again and then his magic re-stitched it. 

That casual display of magic and focus had Derek’s wolf, despite its issues with the incubus, barking in admiration and attraction. When Stiles turned back, a shy smile on his face the small sign of happiness slipped away when he met Derek’s alpha red eyes. Unbidden a shiver of awe and attraction came over Stiles. He needed to leave, he’d forgotten that Derek didn’t seem to like his magic or him beyond being pack. Except Derek now had a hand on his hip, steadying him. He hadn’t thought he’d used that much magic but between the renewal of the wards on the pack house the night before and now he’d probably pushed himself a bit. He was a bit unsteady now.

As the teen swayed a bit, Derek made a decision to scoop him up and bring him up to his room. He brought Stiles to his own room without even thinking about it even though Stiles had a room here just up the hall. The teen was muttering and it took the alpha a few seconds to realize that the teen was talking about him.

“Stiles?” Derek’s face, eyes still that gorgeous alpha red that he loved even if it signalled his Alpha’s discomfort with his craft, swam in and out in front of him. 

“S’okay Sourwolf, I’m just tired,” Stiles patted his Alpha’s head. He felt his eyes flash again as his magic set about trying to help him settle down. He met Derek’s red eyes then, and unbidden again, he grinned, reaching out to trace them. 

Derek growled low, not in warning but confusion. “I know, I know, the purple eyes and the magic freak you out, I’m sorry,” Stiles closed his eyes. Derek stopped growling. 

“Who told you that?” 

“No one had to tell me,” Stiles mumbled, “My birthday made it very clear.” His head was swirling with magical exhaustion and all he wanted was his Derek, but that Derek wasn’t real. The thought made him whine high in his throat.

“Stiles,” Derek was concerned for the Spark now, as the teen whined in his bed, curling up in ball. Derek curled behind the human on instinct, hesitantly nosing at him, gently rubbing the human’s arms in an effort to help him relax. 

Stiles wanted his Alpha to stop, this was too close to his dreams, too close to the djinn but his exhaustion was making him weak for it. He craved the safety of being near Derek, of being with Derek, and if this was the only way to get it, well, he would take it. It wasn’t like the incubus where his Alpha wanted him, but the intimacy of cuddling was somehow even better. 

Derek listened to Stiles mutter, his name cropping up a few times, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of it all. He was still a bit on edge. Stiles had been fine just a few minutes beforehand. Had he done something? 

“Hush, Sourwolf. Not your fault,” a groggy Stiles put a finger to Derek’s lips and when had the teen turned around? They were facing each other now, “Just overextended my magic a bit. I’ll be out of your fur soon.”

“Stiles,” Derek started when Stiles interrupted him.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Why would you ask that, Stiles?”

“Cause you won’t look at me, or talk to me me directly anymore... not since that thing.” 

Disgust slivered over Stiles’ body as he remembered the incubus’ kiss. Oh how he’d wanted it to be real. 

Derek’s wolf warred with shame at a reminder of the rejection even though Stiles didn’t know he’d been there and comforting his mate. The latter won out.

“You did nothing wrong, Stiles.” He spoke around the finger Stiles still held against his lips, forcing himself to keep control and not do something stupid like kiss the finger tip or suck it into his mouth to try and tease him.

“But... I did,” murmured Stiles.

“What did you do?”

“I lied to you.”

Derek could feel the anguish Stiles was feeling, the teen’s emotions, usually well hidden when needed were all over the place due to his fatigue. 

“What did you lie about, Stiles?” Derek couldn’t help it then, he kissed the pad of the teen’s finger. Stiles smiled then and slowly traced Derek’s jaw with his finger. 

“It... kissed me and part of me wanted it to be real.”

Stiles’ confession made Derek’s wolf howl, his mate hadn’t really been rejecting the idea of him after. “I saw you together Stiles,” Derek’s voice was a lowered rumble now, “but I need to hear you tell me why.”

“Silly Sourwolf,” Stiles almost cooed, tucking himself into Derek’s arms, “I always want what I can’t have.” With that the spark dropped off into dreamworld leaving Derek to turn this new information over and over in his mind, wolf happily prancing beneath his skin. 

TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW

Stiles stirred an hour or so later, and as he came back to consciousness he revelled in the warmth around him. Then he froze as he realized this wasn’t his bed, and he definitely wasn’t alone. 

A warm, comforting hand ran down his back relaxing him in spite of his panic. “It’s okay, Stiles.”

Derek. He was in Derek’s room. In Derek’s bed. Shit.

“Stiles?” There was concern in his Alpha’s voice now and he couldn’t handle that at the moment.

“What happened?” Stiles pulled away from the warmth of Derek to sit up on the edge of the bed, back to his Alpha, panic coursing through him. Derek sat up too, moving toward his spark, reaching out to touch his shoulder. They had a lot to talk about. 

“I remember coming back, talking to you and Chris...” he trailed off, he’d used his magic which was stupid given what he’d done the other day, “Dammit. I didn’t collapse on you, did I?” Stiles’ tone was resigned and frustrated, two emotions Derek didn’t want him to feel, especially in this moment.

“No, you were just a bit unsteady. I thought I’d make sure you were okay.”

“Cause Alpha looks after pack,” Stiles muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. 

Derek moved then, walking around the bed to sit next to Stiles who started at his sudden proximity. “Because I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Well, I am,” Stiles went to stand, to leave, but a warm, solid hand, Derek’s hand pressed down on his thigh keeping him seated. 

“Your magic doesn’t bother me, Stiles.”

Stiles closed his eyes, tendrils of embarrassment climbing all over his body. “I didn’t mean to, I don’t care if,”

“Stiles, it doesn’t bother me. I think it’s amazing, actually.”

“Oh,” the embarrassment burned away in light of bright pride and affection. 

“Why are you so tired?” Derek still hadn’t moved his hand from Stiles’ leg and the spark was having trouble concentrating on the moment at hand.

“I was upping the house wards yesterday and didn’t realize I was so low,” Stiles replied, voice hitching as Derek’s fingers on his leg started to rub soothing circles in an effort to help Stiles relax. It was doing the opposite though, because even as his muscles responded and drained of tension he began to panic. 

“What wards?” 

Derek’s hand stopped moving as Stiles froze, he’d forgotten that Derek didn’t know. 

“Stiles? There are no magical wards on the house except for what was in the wood when we built it.”

The sparks was on edge now, “I know.”

“So, how...?” The pieces clicked into place for him, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Derek sounded hurt, not angry. Stiles wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than what he’d expected. “I wasn’t sure if you’d have accepted it if you’d known so I dropped hints to Liam who owed me a favour.”

“You coordinated with a leprechaun to sell me pre-spelled magic wood to build a house for our pack, but didn’t tell me because you thought I’d get angry?” Derek wanted to laugh or cry, maybe both. The sheer amount of protectiveness Stiles’ actions showed told Derek that his pack could not be luckier to have this human within it. “What else does it do?”

Stiles was a bit surprised at Derek’s response, turning so the one leg was on the ground and the other bent on the bed covers. Derek turned to face him too, a hint of red in his eyes. Stiles ducked from that gaze, feeling his own eyes flash in response. 

Derek tilted Stiles’ head up, gently cupping his chin. “Stiles? Liam told me about the elemental protection, the fifty foot barrier, but what else did you do?”

Stiles squirmed on the bed. “Calmness, protection,” he blushed a bright pink that entranced Derek although he’d closed his eyes so he couldn’t see the affection on his Alpha’s face, “some fertility charms to encourage the pack to grow when it’s right,” Derek rumbled out a purr at that one and, “and it’s fireproof. Completely. Every beam and nail is meant to reject it.”

Derek let go of Stiles’ face to bury his face in his hands. He knew only vaguely how much work must have gone into that type of magic protection and to think that Stiles had been away from all of them and he’d still been thinking of them, of building a safe den, a safe home for them, it was a lot. 

“Derek?” Stiles’ voice was sad, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I just wanted to help,” then suddenly Stiles was flush with his Alpha’s chest and Derek was nosing along his neck, rumbling. 

“Thank you,” Derek rumbled, “Thank you.” 

Stiles relished their proximity, the scenting, and Derek. Yeah, he loved just being like this with Derek. 

But then a small voice in his head reminded him that he shouldn’t be enjoying this, he wanted to be Derek’s emissary. This was his job, not something Derek should thank him for like this, if he was his mate, sure but he wasn’t. 

Stiles tried to gently pull away from his alpha who refused to let go of him, breathing in another lungful of Stiles’ scent. This wasn’t good, as Stiles could feel his body reacting to his current situation and he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to ruin things with him and Derek. 

The scent of his mate’s sparking arousal caused Derek’s wolf to celebrate. His mate did want him, but the part of Derek that was still just Derek not his wolf felt Stiles’ anxiety. He released the teen so quickly is was like he’d been burned, Stiles tumbled back onto the bed. 

Damn, Derek looked him splayed out on his bed and fought back a growl. “I’m sorry,” Derek told him, scrambling back away from the teen. 

Stiles sat up, moving away from the bed too, “I should have told you, it’s a lot for the wolf to take in, I’m sorry too.” Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, “I should go take a nap,” he flailed his arm in the direction of the hallway. 

“Yeah, I think you should.”

Stiles left, padding over to his room, while Derek locked his door and returned to the bed. He looked at it as if it taunted him, but then he gave in and curled up in the sheets, drawing in deep lungfuls of Stiles’ scent. 

Back in his own room, Stiles tucked himself into his leather jacket and curled up on his bed waiting for sleep to claim him so that he could stop over analyzing the afternoon.


	11. A Feast of Fantasy and Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allison and Stiles bonding.
> 
> Stiles cries over Derek. 
> 
> Derek needs to tell Stiles.
> 
> Derek tells Stiles...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Supernatural or Teen Wolf

_“Derek, I’m fine.” It wasn’t really a lie, but Derek could sense the hesitation in Stiles’ tone anyway. They’d been dating for over three months now, apparently, and Stiles could not recall a time when he’d been happier even when he knew their relationship had an expiry date. Growling in frustration he came closer to the teen and rested his face in the crook of Stiles’ neck._

_“Don’t lie to me, baby, please.”_

_He relished the shiver his words elicited from his mate. Feeling daring he pressed a kiss to Stiles’ collarbone and nosed up the column of his neck. “What’s wrong? Tell me,” his voice was low and intimate. He could taste Stiles’ arousal and happiness, but it was tinged with sadness and Derek wanted that gone, now. “Stiles?”_

_Stiles was trying to think clearly, unfortunately, the werewolf he was in love with had chosen that moment to start showering him in pet names and sweet kisses. A growl from Derek brought him back from his thoughts, and the Alpha was even closer now, hands on his hips, grip firm but not demanding._

_God, how Stiles wanted this to be real._

_A muffled laugh came from Derek “This is real, baby.”_

_Stiles shivered again._

_“Stiles...? Why don’t you think this is real?” Derek stopped moving then, keeping his mouth near Stiles’ ear, waiting._

_Stiles didn’t want this to end. He’d been happy to play a part, to pretend that he could be this to Derek, but he needed to be smart. “You, you don’t need me, Der... you, you need your mate,” Stiles didn’t move, wanting to soak up as much proximity as possible before Derek acknowledged his point and left._

_Derek wasn’t sure whether Stiles was serious until he smelled resignation, musty and sad, flow over the teen. “I need you, Stiles. You are my mate.” No point in mincing words, because Stiles would surely misinterpret them._

_Stiles’ horror was not what Derek had expected to smell next. The Alpha pulled away from the teen to see his amber eyes full of tears. “Stiles, baby, I thought you’d be happy...?”_

_Stiles laughed, a dark, wet, sick sound as he pressed himself back against the wall. Derek watched him swiftly count and recount his fingers. Derek was absolutely confused._

_“I never thought you’d do that to me, or them... whoever they are...” Stiles’ words made no sense to Derek who had now backed up a bit._

_“Who are you talking about, Stiles?”_

_“I’m not your mate, it can’t be me! Why would you say that? Why?” Stiles was approaching panic now and Derek was so out of his depth. Still he tried._

_“Stiles, Stiles!” Derek he dug around in his mind for something to help Stiles hold his breath and then, trusting his instincts he leaned forward and kissed his mate._

_It wasn’t like the first time they’d kissed. It was hurried and frenzied, but eventually, Stiles calmed down._

_“Why, why did you do that?” Stiles whispered._

_“Because my mate was depriving himself of oxygen and I couldn’t do anything to stop him,” Derek answered, still cupping Stiles’ face._

_Stiles’ heart skipped at the word mate._

_“I’m not lying to you. I swear on everyone we love, Stiles.” Derek was desperate to make Stiles believe him somehow._

_“Why didn’t you tell me?”_

_“I wanted you to have time for life outside of all of this,” Derek gestured at their house, “to let you have a real life, but I see how silly that was now. I just wanted you to be happy.”_

_“When did you know?” Stiles’ voice was small, “Is this a recent thing?”_

_Derek could hear the unasked questions plain as day. He moved his hands from Stiles’ face and tilted the teen’s chin up. “I’ve known since we first met when I was seven. You didn’t trick me into anything Stiles. I’m here with you because I want to be, not because I have to be.” Stiles’ scent became softer at his words and he smiled, “If I have to remind you that us, that you, are my choice every single day from now on I will. I just thought dating would be the best way to approach it without pressuring you...” he paused. Stiles hadn’t said anything about them yet. Being a mate was quite a commitment._

_“Hush, Sourwolf. I’ve been yours since the beginning and I’ll stay that way as long as you’ll have me.”_

_“Forever.” Derek told him, leaning to touch his forehead to Stiles’. The human nodded, joy sparkling in his amber eyes._

_*End of Dream sequence*_

Stiles’ eyes surged open, his heart beating faster than it had any right to. He sat up slowly, hands shaking as he rubbed at his eyes.

“Dream. It was just a dream,” he murmured as he flopped back onto his bed. His mind was racing and then he remembered why his mind had chosen to inflict this type of emotional torture on him. Well, at least he’d finally told Derek about the additional wards on the house. He really needed to look into the emissary role a bit more, because if it interfered with his plans for the future she might have to re-evaluate the trajectory of his life.

A knock sounded at his door and his heart jumped, because only so many people in this house actually respected privacy enough to knock. “Come in,” Stiles called, his voice a bit of a croak.

Allison poked her head in. “Hey, can I come in?”

He nodded, sitting up again, remembering that he’d fallen asleep in his clothes and his jacket. He pulled it tighter around him on reflex. Allison shut the door behind her and came over to sit next to him.

“It’s kind of early to sleep, isn’t it?”

Stiles tried to smile at her, “I just overexerted myself with my magic. I’m still testing my limits.”

“Is that safe? To keep pushing yourself?”

Stiles shrugged.

“Stiles,” the huntress’ tone had a hint of warning in it.

“It shouldn’t kill me, Ally.”

“I suppose that’s all the reassurance I’m getting from you on the front.”

Stiles nodded, “Don’t you have plans with Scott tonight?” he asked, trying to distract her.

She shook her head, “I told him to take his mom out for once. Goodness knows she keeps all of us whole and together so she deserves some time off.”

“Word,” Stiles replied, throwing up a half-hearted peace sign. Allison giggled, shoving him lightly.

“I thought we could hang out?”

“Just us?”

“Unless you’ve got something else to do?”

“Nah, that’d be cool.”

“Come on, let’s do dinner then movies or something equally mundane.”  
“I’d be done for mundane,” Stiles replied as he stepped off of his bed, tugging Allison up along with him. She nodded in agreement and they made their way down to the kitchen.

Only as they approached the kitchen did Stiles contemplate how awkward it would be to run into Derek, especially after his most recent dream. As he paused, Allison walked into him, “Stiles!”

She took one look at his face and made a leap in logic, “The only ones around tonight are Peter and your Dad. My dad took Isaac and Cora out… to visit their families’ graves.” A hitch in her breath made Stiles turn and draw her into a hug. “They won’t be back for awhile. Erica and Boyd might come in later, but they’re currently on a triple date with Danny, his current guy, Lydia and Jackson.” Stiles raised his eyebrows. “I know, I would pay money to see that date in action too,” she answered him, “And Derek, well, he went out when Dad and I got home. He looked a little shaken up.”

Stiles closed his eyes. Had he made Derek feel so uncomfortable in his own home that the Alpha had felt compelled to leave.

“Did something happen between you two?” Allison asked him, eyes sharp.

Stiles’ eye flew open making him look like a deer caught in headlights. He shook his head violently.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Allison placed a comforting hand on the side of his face to stop his violent movement, “I just wanted to make sure he hadn’t done anything.”

Stiles huffed out a dry laugh. “I think I made him upset,” he told her quietly.

“Well, it can’t have been that bad, because the last thing he said to us was ‘Take care of Stiles.’ “ Allison’s impression of their Alpha’s brooding glare and tone brought a real smile to Stiles’ lips.

“He’s protective of pack. He’d never admit if we did something to hurt him.”

Allison rolled her eyes at him, looping her arm with his, “First off, yes he would. He’s all about emotions now. And second, he’s more protective of certain pack members than others.”

Peter hummed in agreement from the kitchen table where he and John were involved in a game of chess.

“Yeah, well, that’s only because not all of us can heal at an exceptional rate,” muttered Stiles. He pulled away from his friend to open the fridge and start pulling out ingredients for homemade pizza.

Allison rolled her eyes again, but her expression was caught between fond and exasperated. John snorted at her expression. Stiles didn’t even look over at them.

“Derek told us,” Peter commented casually, enjoying the way the teen dropped some tomatoes onto the counter. John aimed a kicked at the werewolf under the table, “about the additional wards.”

Stiles took a deep breath in and let it out. Okay, Derek was well within his rights to tell the pack, it was the pack’s house and space after all. Stiles should have told them all the truth.

“That’s some intense casting from what Derek said,” John stated, watching his son react to his words. Stiles turned around with a shrug.

“I thought you were going to be at the station all night?” Stiles countered, raising an eyebrow at his dad.

“I was, but then I came back.”

“Why?” Stiles’ brow furrowed, “What’s wrong? Don’t lie to me, Dad.”

“I think we’ve got a djinn in town.”

This was the last damn thing Stiles wanted to hear.

“Seriously?”

“Well, I was going over your journal entries on it and everything matches up.”

“Which means we’ve probably got two in town,” Stiles replied, feeling exhausted already. Allison came over to him, rubbing his shoulder reassuringly.

“So mundane Friday night?” she asked.

“Still a go, we can’t do anything right now,” John told them, voice firm.

“Just let me put in a call to Sam and Dean,” Stiles asked, “They’ve got a lot more experience with this than I do.”

Stiles pulled out his phone, dialling a number as he set Ally to work cutting up vegetables.

“Stiles?”

“Hey Sam!”

“What’s up, kid?”

“Dad thinks we’ve got a djinn in town and…”

“Is he there?”

“That I am, Dean.”  
John came over to settle at the counter to talk to Dean.

“I’ve been reading about the two you guys encountered in Stiles’ journal and it matches up with what we’ve been dealing with here.”

“Stiles?” Dean asked.

“I haven’t seen all the evidence yet, but if Dad thinks it lines up, Dean. It lines up.”

John smiled at his son, touched by his protectiveness. Stiles nodded at him as he made dough.

“We can be there tomorrow or maybe tonight if we drive through it,” Sam took the phone back, “Will your Alpha be okay with us coming through?”

“Yeah, I asked about it earlier,” John told Sam.

Stiles could picture him nodding along as he plotted out their route change, Dean at the wheel, classic rock in the background, Cas in the backseat.

“Cas?” Stiles asked.

“Yeah, I’ll keep them on track.”

Stiles smiled, “Thanks dude.”

Sam hung up after saying goodbye. Stiles leaned against the counter, and Allison paused to come over and nudge him with her shoulder.

“Is it ever going to be quiet?” she asked, taking the words right out of his mouth.

“I don’t know, Ally-cat.” He looked up at his dad who was still sitting at the counter, “Are you going to be okay with them here, Dad?”

The question was meant just for John. He nodded. “I’ve got you kid, I can get through anything with you.”

“Sap,” Stiles quipped.

“Don’t you know it,” John quipped back.

Stiles stretched then, his jacket and shirt riding up a bit, exposing some tattoos giving Peter the perfect in to diffuse some tension.

“New ink, pup?”

Stiles blushed and glared at Peter.

John schooled his face, watching his son try to intimidate the werewolf behind him.

“It was all legal,” Stiles muttered, “at least the ones I picked out.”

“The ones you picked out?” John asked, putting on his best unimpressed face.

“Some of them just appeared,” he commented, shrugging his shoulders, “I meant to tell you, when things weren’t like” he fluttered his fingers.

“So, how much ink do you actually have?” John queried, relaxing his face to put his son at ease.

“Ummm…”

“Stiles?” Peter was more than happy to jump in on the game.

“Ally?” Stiles turned for help, but his friend shrugged.

“I won’t lie, I’m kind of curious too.”

“Nope, nope,” Stiles shook his head, “Not happening.”

“Stiles, come on…” wheedled Allison, jumping up and down.

“How are you so cute and yet so terrifying?” Stiles asked.

“So, how do you keep it hidden?” John queried.

“A glamour, I assume?” Peter interjected. Stiles nodded.

“Does that tire you out?” John’s voice was tinged with concern.

Stiles shrugged as he spread sauce out on the dough, “I’m used to it.”

“Not the question I asked.”

“Not really. Because I’m used to it I don’t feel it the same way that I do in other situations when I use magic.”

“Is it true that you’ve got the whole pack on you?” Peter asked.

Stiles frowned at the older wolf, but nodded, “They appeared after the Alpha Pack.”

‘Were they the first ones?” John questioned him.

Stiles shook his head, he focused his magic and felt around for his bond to the first moving tattoo he’d received, finding it he coaxed it to his front forearm. Once he’d put the pizza in the oven he hopped up on the counter, and rolled back his left sleeve.

A small white fox curled up on his wrist. Peter came over to look, “What does it mean?”

“It protects him,” John murmured, looking up, “Right?”

“Yeah, I think it’s…”

“Claudia,” John smiled. It was getting easier every day to talk about his wife with his pack around him, “I’ve seen her before, in person.”

“She leaves occasionally, to calm me down and stuff,” Stiles commented, pulling his sleeve down, covering the tattoo, “When’d you see her?”

“Last year, before we talked about colleges.”

Stiles nodded.

Allison hopped up on the counter next to him, “So, while we’re waiting for the pizza to cook, and the Winchesters to arrive want to watch a movie?”

Stiles tilted his head to look at her, “Do you even have to ask?”

She grinned then hauled him off the counter to the living room where they almost immediately decided on Iron Man. As they settled in to have a somewhat chill night, John settled back down at the table to continue his chess game with Peter. “Is that something you’ve heard about?” he asked the werewolf casually, “Living tattoos?”

“Not since Clau, and she only had a few that we knew of,” Peter replied, “I expect her body reverted to a glamour too by default.

Stiles and Allison watched the first thirty minutes of the movie trading quips and quoting lines they knew as they waited for the pizza. After the pizza was ready they returned to the kitchen and then borough the food back, eating as they continued to watch, but no matter how much Stiles loved this movie he felt his mind wandering.

“Earth to Stiles?” Allison’s voice broke through his thoughts. She’d turned down the volume of the movie, and was looking at him, “Something on your mind?” His thoughts flicked back to Derek. “Or someone?” Stiles couldn’t keep himself from blushing.

Making up her mind, Allison asked him if he was done eating and at his nod she whisked away their plates then stopping the movie tugged him back upstairs, his confusion apparent to her, but she didn’t feel like answering any questions until they were in his room. She shut his door, and pushed him back to his bed, “Sit.”

Stiles sat.

“Spill.”  
“Spill what?”

“Stiles, don’t be like that,” Allison sighed and sat down next to him, bumping their shoulders, “You’ve been distracted all evening and its not because of the djinn” Stiles winced, “although that’s part of it.”

“I’ve met a djinn before,” Stiles told her.

“They keep people in alternate realities right?”

“Sort of. They create realities motivated by your deepest, darkest wishes to keep people happy while they drain them of their blood.”

“And you’ve met one?”

“Two actually.”  
“I was in a djinn fantasy for a few days.”  
“What was it like?”

Stiles smiled sadly. “It was definitely a fantasy.”

“Care to explain?”

“Not really.”

‘Well, then I’ll ask you about this person who’s so obviously on your mind.”

“No one’s on my mind, Ally.”

“So, it’s not a certain brooding Alpha?”

Stiles blushed and panicked at the same time, “What?!” His voice was strangled and not at all the pleased embarrassed she wanted to hear.

“Stiles, it’s okay. No one can hear us up here.”  
‘Ally… how? Did my dad? Oh my god, did he tell…”  
“Shh, no, no he didn’t tell us anything. We figured it out. Well, Lydia figured it out, then Jackson, then me and Scott and the rest of the pack.”  
“Is that why you wanted to stay in tonight? To tell me to stay away from Derek to keep from fucking up the pack dynamic, because I swear, I’m not telling him. I’m not!”

“No, no! I wanted to spend time with you Stiles,” but she could tell he’d reverted back to old habits and wasn’t entirely convinced of her words, “and we just want you to be happy, we want you to tell him.”  
Stiles slumped down on the bed, laying back, pulling his jacket tight, feeling his stomach roll with panic and confusion.

“You want me to tell him, just so I can get shot down? I won’t do that to the pack, Ally.”

“Stiles, you can’t think that he doesn’t care…”

“He cares about the pack, Ally-cat,” Stiles was tired, still so damn tired, “not about me,” he was so tired that the next few words slipped out without intention, “At least not in this reality.”

“Was he… were you together in your djinn dream?” Allison murmured, putting the pieces together.

Stiles groaned turning over to slam his face into the mattress, trying to vanish from this moment all together.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Ally flopped down next to him, cuddling him kind of, and it helped, a bit. She waited for a few minutes, “Was it good, you two together?”

Stiles choked out a laugh into his sheets. He wanted to cry. He nodded, and Allison pulled him close in a side hug, “And then I came back and he’s so good to us, Ally,” Stiles whispered, “but it’s not enough to me and I’m such a horrible person, because I can’t just take the good stuff I’m being allowed.”

“Oh, Stiles,” she murmured, “You’re not looking, he looks at you like…”

“Like I’m human,” the word sounded dark in Stiles’ mouth, “Like I’m breakable, a threat whenever I’m not being helpful, like he’s waiting for me to leave and screw everything up again.” He pulled himself off the bed during this rant and started pacing.

“Stiles, he looks at you like nothing else matters as long as you’re okay,” argued Allison.

Stiles laughed again. It frustrated her. “Stiles!” her raised voice didn’t make him stop, but he did quiet down for a bit. He looked at her, eyes watery, but he didn’t speak, and anything she was going to say died in her throat. He looked so destroyed and heartbroken, and she knew in that moment too that Stiles wouldn’t be convinced by her or any other member of the pack, at least not individually. She needed Derek to step up his damn game.

“Come here, Stiles,” she held out her arms and he paused then, fell into her hug. He cried then, and she just stayed with him, cuddling until she felt him fall asleep. Rearranging him and tucking him into bed, still in his clothes and that jacket, the one Scott had told her smelled of Derek, and she slowly, quietly made her way out of the room and back down to the kitchen.

Peter and John were in the middle of another game, but the werewolf stopped when he smelled the tears on Allison’s approaching form. “Allison?”

“I’m okay,” she slumped down into a chair next to Peter, leaning into the werewolf for comfort. He pulled the teen closer, “but he’s not.”

John looked up, “What happened?”

“He told me… well, he didn’t mean to tell me, but he implied that he and Derek were together in his djinn alternate reality,” she told them, keeping her head on Peter’s shoulder. Peter raised his eyebrows at John.

“You’re not surprised,” he accused John as he heard Derek come up the drive, and close his car door.

John shook his head, “Parts of it are mentioned in his journal. It was jarring for him to switch back afterward,” he looked at Allison, “Is he…?”

“He’s sleeping. He’s exhausted,” her face fell, “I didn’t think it was actually possible to cry yourself to sleep.” Peter rubbed her shoulder in a comforting gesture as Derek appeared quietly in the kitchen.

“What happened?” his voice was hoarse, reminding Allison of Stiles earlier in the evening.

“You have to tell him,” she pulled away from Peter fixing her Alpha with a sad look, “I’m sorry Derek, about whatever special plans you had, but you didn’t see him. You have to tell him, as soon as possible.”

He sat down at the head of the table, “What happened, Allison?”

She looked down, and bit her lip. She didn’t want to betray Stiles’ confidence more than she already had, but thankfully, John cleared his throat, “I’ve got an idea of what happened, you can correct me if I’m wrong though,” he told her, and she smiled slightly, grateful for the Sheriff.

“We think there’s a djinn in town, which you know,” Derek nodded so John continued, “Well, Stiles has met a djinn before and in his alternate reality he was with someone, with you,” Derek’s eyes widened, “Listen to my heartbeat, Derek.”

“He didn’t want to talk about it, god, Derek. It’s like it physically pains him,” Allison told her Alpha, “Please.”

The Sheriff wasn’t lying. He wasn’t. Neither was Allison.

“You need to tell him, son.”

“It’ll be okay, pup.”

Derek nodded, not really hearing them anymore, all of his focus on Stiles. He could just sense the human’s heartbeat outside of the soundproofing.

“Okay.”

The pack at the table looked surprised at his easy acceptance. He grinned a little shakily at them, “I was planning to today anyways, after something earlier.” He looked so young and nervous in that moment that John felt a burst of affection for the man who loved his son.

He pushed away from the table, and turned to head upstairs when a flutter of wings sounded behind him.

“Where’s Stiles?” A strange man in a trench coat was in the kitchen, standing next to Derek’s just vacated seat, expression blank. Derek and Peter both growled at him, while Peter pulled Allison behind him as he stood. John had his service weapon out.

Then the creature vanished. A few moments later a voice called out down the stairs, “He’s not a threat,” then a muttered, “Jesus, Cas!” followed as a rumpled Stiles dragged the creature, Derek knew the thing wasn’t human, down the stairs.

Derek saw Stiles for the first time since earlier and his wolf growled at how upset and tired his mate looked. “Is this your Alpha?” The thing, Cas, Stiles had called him, asked. Stiles did a double take, then grinned, a sad smile on his face, “Yeah, bud, this is Derek Hale. This is Castiel, he’s an angel of the Lord.”

“Of all the things, I was not expecting that,” Allison commented as she ducked out from behind Peter, “Seriously?”

“Yes, I am, and it is a pleasure to meet one of Stiles’ friends, Allison Marie Argent.”

“You can just call her Allison… Why’d you come ahead?”

“Dean and Sam were nervous. They wanted you protected.”

Stiles shook his head, “Great. They know I can take care of myself right?” Stiles scrubbed a hand over his face, “Whatever. Let’s get you some pizza, Cas.” The angel followed Stiles as John, Peter, Allison, and Derek stared after them.

“So, umm, not telling him tonight, eh?” Peter muttered, then threw up his hands in the air, “Damn angels!”

“Who is my son?” John asked the pack members at large, “Angels? What even is our life?”

“I ask myself that daily,” Allison commiserated with the Sheriff.

“I think we all do, and I’m a werewolf,” Derek added, it was going to be a long night, he could tell.

Castiel examined the teen in front of him. “You’re sad. Dean says it’s because you won’t be honest with your Alpha.” he stated. Stiles almost dropped the coffee pot he was filling, “Shit Cas! What? You know werewolves have really good hearing right?” He tried to hush the angel, then he paused, “Wait, Dean told you that? Why?”

“Well, I’ve come to understand that when you’re in a relationship with someone they share personal things…”  
“Yeah, their own personal stuff, not other people’s… what relationship? Seriously? You and Dean?!” Cas nodded and Stiles whooped, finally something good had happened. The rest of the pack came in as Stiles hugged the angel, “Congratulations man! Destiel’s real!”

Cas looked confused but happy.

“Are you happy?” Stiles asked, voice turning serious for a moment.

Cas nodded, “I am, Stiles.”

“That’s amazing, man. Finally, something that makes me feel good. Oh, and I can’t believe that Dean didn’t tell me, he’s so getting an earful.”

Cas cocked his head, “He said he was waiting for you to figure out your happy ending before telling you.” Stiles shook his head, as he passed pizza over to the angel.

“Nah, he’s just a dick,” Stiles told the angel.

John chided his son for his language, but Stiles shrugged in response, a real smile on his face as he chatted with Cas. Derek watched Stiles talk, and felt his wolf tug at his heart strings, because for all of Stiles’ smiles and laughs over the next hour or so as more pack members filtered homes he could smell the resignation and sadness that clung to Stiles’ skin like another glamour.

It wasn’t until later that night, close to midnight when the growl of the Impala rolled up the drive and Stiles went out to greet Sam and Dean. Scott laughed at his best friend as he cuffed Dean upside the head then tug the man into a hug. Derek came over after Sam and Stiles headed off into the house, “We appreciate you taking us in, Hale.”

“Thank you for coming, Dean. And I hear from Stiles that congratulations are in order.”

“And I hear they aren’t on his end yet,” Dean’s voice was challenging, but teasing too.

“Well, that will change,” Derek replied.

Dean observed him, eyes narrowed, then nodded his head, “I look forward to it, then Derek.”

They decide to turn in that night, because hunting on limited sleep is unadvisable at best and dangerous at worst.

Stiles ended up back in his room, jittery, unable to sleep so he was pacing until a soft knock sounded against his door. “Yeah?”

Derek peeked in, just keeping a smile off his face as he saw Stiles’ face turn to look at him, confused and so damn adorable. “Can I come in?”

“I don’t know, Alpha. Can you?” The retort was instinctual.

Derek ducked in then, shutting the door behind him, “It seems like I can.”

Stiles twirled his fingers in mock celebration.

“Stiles… we need to talk,” Derek cringed at the words that came out of his mouth, they did not sound good.

Stiles sighed, and flopped down on the floor, leaning against his window seat. “Let’s just get this over with,” the teen whispered, voice tinged with grief already.

“Stiles, what do you think I want to talk about?” Derek’s voice went soft as he walked over to sit in front of the teen, just within touching distance, but he kept his hands to himself. He needed to know what Stiles was thinking.

The scent of sadness and anxiety piqued, “I don’t know, Der. I don’t even know anymore.” he shivered, tugging his jacket around him again, breathing in the scent that clung to the jacket. It made Derek’s wolf growl, “That’s my jacket you know?”

Stiles froze. “What?”

Derek gestured at it, “It was mine when I was sixteen or seventeen. Peter gave it to you to push me to this point,” Derek drew patterns on the throw rug on the floor of Stiles’ room as he spoke.

“Peter wants me gone too?” The pain and confusion in Stiles’ voice cut Derek whose eyes, burning red now.

“Gone?”

Stiles let go of the jacket, going to pull it off when Derek’s hands gripped his hands tightly.

“Isn’t that what this is about? I’m fucking up pack dynamics! I want you and you don’t want me, and I can’t fix this!”

Derek growled, and pulled Stiles forward into his lap, silencing the teen.

“Derek, please, please, just let me go,” Stiles was crying now, “I’m sorry. I’ll stay away…” And Derek kissed him; it was short, soft, and sweet.

“I want you, Stiles. I wish you could trust me on that,” Derek crooned in the teen’s ear, “Stay, please.”

Stiles didn’t know what to do, but then as Derek drew back, relaxing his grip so that he could look his mate in the eyes. Stiles felt himself unfreeze and he pulled away then he ran.

Derek couldn’t move. Stiles’ eyes were purple, his magic keeping Derek in place as his mate ran away from him.

Stiles ran to his Jeep and he tore out of the drive. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that Derek would go so far to fake feelings for him to keep him around for the pack. That was the only reason he could come up with for what had just happened. Right?

What he didn’t noticed was the tattooed blue man that had watched him tear out of the house, fifty feet away the djinn watched as the nightmarish thoughts he’d planted in the teen’s head took hold. Djinn’s didn’t always create wish fulfillment fantasies, sometimes the nightmares made the target even sweeter to catch. The boy would be a feast for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll put what Stiles heard from Derek in the next chapter, because he definitely didn't hear what his Alpha actually said.


	12. Chapter 12

As Derek fought against the magic keeping him frozen he sensed another presence in Stiles’ room. A white fox peeked out from under the bed, and edged toward him until it could stand up on its hind legs, nose touching Derek’s cheek. The magic broke and Derek fell back. The fox whined at him, and somehow, he knew it wasn’t a threat.

“Thank you,” he said and the fox nodded, then it dashed to Stiles’ door, vanishing through it. 

Derek pulled at the pack bonds, waking up everyone who’d managed to fall asleep. They had a Spark to find. 

TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW--TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW-- TW—TW—TW

Of course, Dean, Sam, and Cas weren’t part of the pack, but they quickly picked up on the activity in the house, leaving their rooms to find the pack in the kitchen, a map of the county spread out over the table. 

“What happened?” Sam asked, while he felt Dean tense.

“Where’d you get that?” Dean’s voice cut through all of the conversations happening, pointing to Derek’s hands, tinged slightly with blue.

The Alpha looked up at him, the franticness evident in his eyes, and Dean knew, “Stiles. You touched Stiles?” At Derek’s brief nod, Cas appeared next to Derek moving the Alpha from touching the map laid out, “That’s djinn magic. He must have come into to contact with it recently. Whatever you think happened isn’t what happened for him.”

Sam had ducked back into their room, and returned with a bottle of something that he tossed to Cas, who caught it one-handed as he kept the Alpha restrained. “Rub this into your hands.”

“What is it?” Chris’ voice was tense.

“Clover, unicorn tears, and juniper,” answered Cas, and Derek took it without question. They watched as his hand glowed blue, then white and returned to normal. 

“Djinn’s can infect you through hand to skin contact, weird, but apparently effective,” Sam told them, then they turned back to the assembled pack. 

“You can’t find him?” 

“Scott, John, Isaac, Jackson, Cora, and Allison split up in pairs to search the town,” Derek told them. 

“And this?” Dean gestured at the map. 

“That was my idea,” Lydia interjected as she emerged from the pantry with some herbs in her hands, “Stiles and I devised a plan to find pack members in case one of us went missing. I think I can do it.”

“Magic, without an anchor? You can’t do that, even if you are a banshee,” Sam shook his head at her. Lydia looked like she might argue when, “I can anchor the casting,” Cas volunteered, stepping up to the redheaded banshee who smiled tightly at the angel. Dean’s eyes flickered to Cas, who met his gaze head on. He had to trust Cas; Dean nodded back. 

“So, it’s definitely a djinn,” Sam confirmed, “We’ll head out to join the search parties…”

Derek’s phone rang and the Alpha answered it, “John?” 

“We found his scent.”

John’s voice sounded wreaked, not hopeless, but, “Where?”

“The cemetery… but he’s not here anymore. Derek, he left Claudia a letter… to say goodbye.”

Derek felt his blood run cold. 

Thankfully, Boyd was still in the kitchen relating the information John was giving him to the pack, because Derek couldn’t hear anymore. Finally, Erica took the phone from her Alpha, putting John on speaker and letting the Winchesters take over the questioning as she helped Lydia and Cas prepare for their casting. 

The word nightmare caught Derek’s attention and he pulled himself back to the moment at hand, he needed to keep the image of Stiles, bloody and lifeless that had overtaken his mind, out of his head. 

“Yeah, I know that they usually play with fantasy worlds, but Clau taught us that sometimes, especially if you’ve escaped from one beforehand, they’ll twist reality into a nightmare instead. It’s just as satisfying for them in the end,” Dean was telling John, as Cas started to shimmer, Lydia’s voice even as she muttered a Latin spell none of them recognized. 

The map began to shimmer, pinpricks of light appearing, the pack and their locations manifesting themselves. Cas kept his hands on Lydia’s shoulders as she spoke Stiles’ name, but nothing came up. Nothing. 

She said it again. 

And again. 

Nothing. 

The pinpricks of the pack lights started to waver, and Derek could hear the desperation in her voice. This was the only immediate way they had of tracking Stiles. He’d learned to hide his scent and his heartbeat. Even their burgeoning mate bond was only healthy enough on Derek’s side to help him find his mate if the teen deemed himself in danger, which he obviously didn’t. 

“Dean, do we have a location?” John’s voice was tense on the other end of the phone.

“Wait!” Melissa’s interjection made Lydia pause, and everyone looked at her, the spell wavering but not collapsing yet, “His name, you can’t call for Stiles,” she pulled the phone over onto the map, looking at Cas, “Can he conduct this power through you and Lydia?” At the angel’s nod, she spoke into the phone, “John, you need to use Stiles’ real name, or at least some version of it.”

The Sheriff started to murmur something, but the sound of the name was overwhelmed by a loud crackle as almost the entire map went up in purples flames. Derek jumped back, expecting the acrid smell of smoke, his heart beating a mile a minute. Peter wasn’t much better, but as the older werewolf went over to try and comfort his nephew he scented the air. The smell that emanated from the mist in the air wasn’t smoke or ashes, it smelled like “Stiles!” crowed Erica. 

Lydia picked up the small piece of map that remained, “Sheriff, he’s at the edge of town,” she started describing the place while John and Scott threw themselves into the man’s cruiser and headed out to find Stiles. Erica called Cora, while Chris took it upon himself to call Allison. 

“Let’s get your mate back,” Peter told is nephew, gripping Derek’s shoulder tightly.

Derek nodded, eyes flashing red. He wanted to tear this djinn into tiny little pieces for threatening his mate and his pack. 

“There’s our, Alpha,” Peter murmured to Chris as Derek wading into the planning going on, taking control and solving the problems that needed to be addressed immediately as he shepherded the humans to their vehicles. 

“Talia would be proud,” Chris replied, squeezing Peter’s hand tightly before they split up to go save their pack member. 

TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW--TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW-- TW—TW—TW

It was the djinn. Stiles felt like a useless idiot as the genie approached him, backing him up against a wall. Of course, because why would his night have any business getting better when his life was already crumbling around him. He’d just lost his pack, of that he was convinced, and with that he’d lost everything that meant something to him. 

Well, he wasn’t going down without a fight. 

Stiles went for the silver knife he’d stashed up his sleeve and poised for the fight. It happened fast. He was basically a blue as he launched himself into the fray, but even as the first djinn disintegrated in front of him Stiles was tracking the warehouse he’d ended up at, looking for the second one. 

As he edged around a corner, fingers darted out and he just missed them. 

“Stiles?!”

The sound of his dad’s voice almost threw him off, but he didn’t have time to think about anything but the djinn. It came closer and he backed up, pushing open a door. He could see bodies, tied up, blood being drained from them, and he walked backward into the room, the djinn following. 

He could hear the sound of heavy footfalls approach the room, and Stiles knew he only had moments before his dad and whoever else came through that door. He wouldn’t put them in danger, so he stepped to the djinn and in aimed. The knife sunk deep into the creature, but at the same moment it brought its hand to Stiles’ temple and the teen could feel himself fade to unconsciousness even as the djinn died.


	13. Djinn Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see into Stiles' djinn dream. 
> 
> Stiles gives back the jacket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

Dean was the first one to reach the room, Sam right behind him. Both brothers made a beeline for the unmoving Stiles on the floor, steering clear of the dead djinn to the teen’s left. “Stiles?!” That was John, his voice strangled as he rushed over to the hunters, Chris Argent followed behind, with Derek at his heels. 

Chris went to the tied up bodies and started slowly lowering them to the ground, keeping one ear open to the discussion happening between the others. “A hospital won’t do anything for him,” Dean argued with John and Derek, as Sam moved to pick up Stiles. Derek growled, and Sam moved back so that the Alpha could pick the teen up. 

“Why not?” Derek growled, just keeping himself under control to protect Stiles. 

“It touched him before it died. He’s in a djinn dream world now,” Sam told the Alpha, “He has to come back by himself. We can’t risk interfering.”

At this moment, the only thing keeping Derek sane was that he could hear and feel Stiles’ heart beating. 

“What the hell does that mean, Winchester?” John gave an impressive growl that rivalled Derek’s as he stood next to Derek.

“The only way back from the djinn world is a dream suicide,” Chris walked over, hands and clothes with minimal blood on them. 

John and Derek both stiffened.

“It won’t hurt him.” Chris reassured them, but it did little to actually make them feel any better. 

“Get him home, Alpha. I’ll call this in,” he gestured at the warehouse. John opened his mouth to protest, he should help, even if all he wanted was to be with Stiles. “I’ll call it in, you four, make yourselves scarce.”

“I’ll stay with you,” Chris wouldn’t take no for an answer and for that John was grateful. 

Sam and Dean drove Derek back to the house, with the Alpha and Stiles in the backseat. 

They didn’t talk, just letting Derek listen to Stiles’ heartbeat.

Back at the pack house, Derek brought Stiles upstairs to his room for the second time that day. He let Sam deal with the rest of the pack, but Dean followed him upstairs, although the hunter stopped at his doorway. “Cas can let you see what he’s seeing, if you want?” 

The Alpha paused, then nodded, “I’d appreciate it. Thank you.”

Dean nodded, then turned to leave. 

The rustle of wings didn’t draw Derek’s attention away from Stiles as he lay on the bed. 

“Use this to understand him,” Cas said, quietly as he touched Derek’s forehead. 

TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW--TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW

“Stiles?” 

Stiles groaned as he turned his head toward the voice that sounded so much like his, “Mom?” 

“Yeah, kiddo. Who else would it be?” Claudia sat down as Stiles took in his surroundings, they were in the cottage, in his room. Claudia stroked his cheek, drawing his attention back to her. She looked older, there were streaks of grey in her hair and more laugh lines on her face. “Stiles, sweetie?”

“What’s going on?” The moment he asked it Stiles felt like he should know the answer. He must be dead or something. 

“What do you mean, Mischief?” Claudia’s eyes sharpened a bit, concern appearing in her eyes. 

“Where’s dad?” Claudia’s eyes softened, her concern heightened.

“Mica… did you hit your head harder than we thought yesterday?”

“Yesterday?”  
“When we were training? Peter’s been beating himself up about it and Derek’s not talking to him,” Claudia told him, ruffling his hair and then laying her hand on his forehead, murmuring a few words that made Stiles feel like he’d been cleansed, there was no other word for it. “Yeah, I think you you got hit a bit harder than we thought. Do you feel better now?”

“A bit,” Stiles replied, fighting with himself to not throw himself at his mother and hug her until the end of time. 

“Well, that’s good,” Claudia hugged him quickly then stood up, a small smile on her face, “because I think you’ve got a visitor.” Stiles’ eyebrows rose in confusion. Claudia ruffled his hair again, “I’ll tell the pack you’re still a bit confused, Mischief… they’ll be as gentle as wolves can be, kiddo.”

She ducked out of the room, a soft rumble sounding as she spoke to someone standing outside his room. Stiles didn’t know what was happening, except it felt like this had happened before… His train of thought was derailed as Derek walked into his room. But something was different, this Derek was softer, he was — oh god — he was smiling, freely, and he was looking at Stiles like… It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him. Stiles knew at that moment what this was, it was the djinn, again. 

‘Stiles?” Derek came over to him, gently cupping his face, concern lacing his voice, “What’s wrong?” 

Stiles knew his emotions must be all over the place, but he needed this first, he grabbed Derek and held him close. “Stiles? You okay, Little Red?”

He returned the hug, pressing a kiss to the top of Stiles’ head, and Stiles choked back a sob at the tenderness of the action. Derek pulled away at that sound, “Stiles” and the teen couldn’t resist the chance, he surged up and kissed Derek. His wolf kissed him back. The kiss was sweet and soft. It made Stiles feel special, like he was something to be protected and kept safe. “Sweetheart?” Derek murmured, and Stiles could feel the tears prick at his eyes. This wasn’t his moment to have. This wasn’t real. It was a dream.

He remembered the real kiss. Their first one in his reality. Had it really just happened a few hours ago?

*Stiles’ Djinn Magicked Flashback*

“Stiles… we need to talk,” Stiles’ insides turned to lead, those words did not hold glad tidings for him, he was sure of it. 

He sighed, and flopped down on the floor, leaning against his window seat. “Let’s just get this over with,” Stiles whispered, voice tinged with grief already.

“Stiles, what do you think I want to talk about?” Derek’s voice sounded exasperated as he walked over to sit in front of Stiles, the wolf’s voice was tinged with a harsh undertone Stiles hadn’t heard directed at him in at least a few months. He’d really screwed up. Derek knew, but Stiles couldn’t bring himself to actually say anything. 

“I don’t know, Der. I don’t even know anymore.” Stiles shivered, tugging his jacket around him again, breathing in the scent that clung to the jacket. He didn’t know what he’d do without the pack, but if Derek kicked him out because he couldn’t get over his crush he’d figure it out. He’d make his dad stay of course. His dad deserved the family that pack offered.

“That’s my jacket you know?” Derek spoke, purpose evident in his words. 

Stiles froze. “What?” Shit, he’d been seeking comforting from Derek’s jacket like a goddamn wolf pup so often, and he couldn’t begin to imagine how that would bother Derek. 

Derek gestured at it, “It was mine when I was sixteen or seventeen. Peter gave it to you to push me to this point,” Derek drew patterns on the throw rug on the floor of Stiles’ room as he spoke, unable to look at Stiles. 

“Peter wants me gone too?” Derek’s eyes flashed red as his gaze snapped up to pin Stiles.

“Gone?” his Alpha’s growl had him frozen as he tried and failed to control how all of that power being directed at him made him feel. 

Stiles let go of the jacket, scrambling to pull it off when Derek’s hands made him stop.

“Isn’t that what this is about? I’m fucking up pack dynamics! I want you and you don’t want me, and I can’t fix this!” Stiles could feel his anxiety coiled up in his stomach like a dead weight. Like him. 

Derek growled at his words, and had pulled Stiles forward into his lap, surprising him into silence for a brief moment. 

“Who said I don’t want you?” 

Stiles had shivered at the intent in Derek’s voice, but then the Alpha had laughed at his own words, “I need you to stay, Stiles, for pack stability. So…” he had nosed almost playfully at Stiles’ throat, “maybe we can come to an arrangement?” 

Then Stiles had tried to pull away, “Derek, please, please, just let me go,” Stiles was crying now, “I’m sorry. I’ll stay away…” And Derek kissed him; it was short, soft, and sweet.

He slid his arms around Stiles, seemingly ignoring the teen’s anxiety and grief, “I’ll have to reserve the right to leave when my mate comes along,” Derek crooned in the teen’s ear, “But for now, please, stay.”

Stiles didn’t know what to do. Then as Derek drew back, relaxing his grip so that he could look him in the eyes Stiles felt himself unfreeze and he ran.

*End of Stiles Magicked Flashback*

But would it be so bad to stay here, at least for a bit? 

Stiles knew what this universe was like. Allison was his best friend and Peter his partner in magical crime. Scott didn’t exist, neither did Melissa. But here he also had Derek. The Hales were here. Pack was here. 

No, this wasn’t his pack. 

It wasn’t fair to abandon them. 

He knew what he needed to do.

“I’m just a little out of sorts, Der. I think a shower might help,” Stiles nudged the wolf a little.

“Want some help?” Derek asked, cheekily and Stiles laughed out loud. Derek should always look like that, his face was really born to smile. 

“Pretty sure I’m still a few months shy of eighteen, Sourwolf.”

“Sourwolf? Is this another nickname I’ll need to endure for the rest of our lives?”

“Yeah, Der, it is.”

“But my life isn’t sour when you’re in it,” Derek told him, as he pulled Stiles back in for a hug. Stiles sunk into the embrace and pressed a small kiss to Derek’s neck. The wolf growled, his eyes flashing gold, “Don’t start anything you can’t finish, Stilinski.”

Stiles smiled into Derek’s neck, a wave of sadness and grief flowing over him. Derek’s arms tightened, the teasing tone gone, “Stiles, what’s going on?”  
“I’ll tell you, after I shower, Der.” Stiles pulled away, “Grab me some clothes?” He requested as he walked over to the bathroom, when he felt a shirt swish across the room and hit him in the back. He turned to grab it, taking in the beauty that was a shirtless Derek. “Shit,” Stiles muttered under his breath as he locked himself int he bathroom, breathing out slowly. He needed silver. 

He closed his eyes, willing the appearance of a silver dagger into existence. He could hear Derek rummaging around in his room and a burst of affection bloomed in his chest. He couldn’t do this here and now, at least not without protecting his Derek. He threw up a magical barrier, remembering that there was another Derek, another pack that needed him right now. Without pausing to think more, Stiles raised the dagger and sunk into his stomach. “Back to home we go,” he muttered as his world went dark. 

TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW--TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW

Derek opened his eyes first as the image of his mate killing himself had triggered his Alpha senses. He’d seen everything through Stiles’ eyes, meaning that thankfully he’d seen Stiles’ flashback to the nightmare the djinn had inflicted upon him earlier. He knew now why Stiles had run. He’d thought that Derek was willing to toy with his emotions, no wonder the teen had left. 

He could hear Stiles’ heartbeat ratchet up beside him. “Stiles,” he moved to sit up, placing a hand on the teen’s shoulder to comfort and anchor him, “I know you’re awake.”

“Am I?” Stiles asked, his anxiety still spiking. 

“Yeah, you killed the djinns. You’re back with us.”

Stiles sat up, “My dad?” 

“He’s with Chris, calling in the missing people you found.”

“Scott?”

“Coming back from searching for you.”

Stiles’ anxiety tempered, turning onto a low simmer, as he rolled over to the side of the bed.

“Everyone’s safe?”

“Everyone.”

A wave of grief washed over Stiles, “Stiles? I promise, everyone’s safe.”

“Everyone from this pack,” Stiles mumbled under his breath and Derek shifted, knowing without a doubt that his family was probably alive in Stiles’ dream, “Why am I here?” he asked, his voice at a normal level. 

Derek was confused, until he realized the last time he and Stiles had been alone together that the teen had been given the impression that Derek wanted some kind of no-strings attached relationship. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Right, pack stability,” Stiles replied, shame and sadness curling in his stomach remembering what had happened before he left the house. He stood up then, and went to leave the room, but Derek cut him off, moving to block him from the door. 

“Stiles, we need to discuss something.” He tried to keep his words away from what he’d said earlier, but he could see Stiles curl in on himself anyways, and then Stiles seemed to realize he was still wearing Derek’s jacket. He went to shrug it off, to give it back to his Alpha, but Derek stopped him. 

“You were under the influence of a djinn earlier, Stiles. The conversation we had in your memories isn’t the conversation I had with you.”

Stiles laughed, a bitter, cold sound, “That’s what you’re going with? Delayed djinn magic messed with my head?” Tear pricked at his eyes, but as he looked at Derek he noticed something, the Alpha didn’t look defensive or angry, but resigned and sad. “You’re telling the truth, aren’t you?”

Derek’s eyes met his and he nodded. 

He’d kissed Derek under the influence of magic, shit. “I’m so sorry,” Stiles murmured, “I should never have… I didn’t mean to…”

Derek looked confused now, “Stiles, what are you apologizing for?” His Alpha was close enough now that he could feel the man’s body heat through his clothes. The Alpha could guess though, “I kissed you, Stiles, because you couldn’t breathe. You didn’t take advantage of me.”

Stiles blushed, shame curling around him as he looked down, “I’m still sorry you felt like you had to do that.”

Derek cupping his chin, tilting Stiles’ face up “I’m not sorry it happened.”

Stiles couldn’t handle this right now, “Please, let me go.” 

Derek dropped his hands, and stepped back. Stiles shrugged out of the jacket, wordlessly, and handed it back to the wolf. 

Then Stiles ducked out the room, heading to his own. Hands shaking, heart beating, and tears silently running down his face. That was how John found him later on, when he knocked on Stiles’ door to check on his son. He didn’t ask questions, he just hugged Stiles tightly and eventually, the teen fell asleep.


	14. Mama McCall Comes to Flay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melissa gets protective.
> 
> Allison, Scott, and Stiles cuddle.
> 
> Derek and Stiles talk.
> 
> *I wasn't going to post this tonight, but a comment prompted me to address Stiles' reaction to people betraying him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

John waited until Stiles was asleep and then left his son’s room, meeting Scott and Allison as he left the room. “We didn’t want him to wake up alone,” Allison told the Sheriff who nodded in thanks as the teens slipped into Stiles’ room. 

“How is it only 1am?” John asked as he wandered into the kitchen where Melissa was making coffee. 

She shrugged, but passed over a cup. “It’s decaf, John.”

“Thank you, you wonderful woman. You’re a goddess.” 

Melissa blushed, but she didn’t say anything else. “How’s he doing?”

“I don’t know how much more of this he can take. Sometimes I wonder if he should have just stayed away.”

“You wouldn’t have been able to do that,” Melissa murmured.

“I would leave with him. I would leave all of this behind if he could be safe.”

Melissa placed a reassuring hand on his arm, and he let her. 

“I know you would, but he picked this pack. He made his decision, John.”

“I know, that’s why we’re here isn’t it?” He smiled ruefully at Melissa. “The messes our boys get us into, eh?”

She nodded, smiling back at him. 

Their peaceful moment was interrupted by the sound of someone storming out of the study down the hall and running out the front door. 

“What the hell?” Melissa asked, as both she and John went to investigate. 

“Peter just needs to calm down, he’s a little angry,” Chris told his fellow adults, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly. 

“Why?” Melissa queried, “What happened?”

Chris jerked his head at the study, his mouth set in a thin line, “That angel let Derek into Stiles’ djinn dream, at Dean’s request.” John went stock still, anger bubbling up inside him while Melissa stared at the hunter in shock, then before either man could react she stalked into the study. Chris and John followed right behind her. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Melissa almost shrieked, as she got up into Dean Winchester’s space. 

Derek was crouched in the corner, his old leather jacket tucked under his chin. He looked like a child who knew he’d done something bad and was already punishing himself for it. 

“Someone needed to know what was going on,” Dean was trying to explain himself, but he was totally helpless against hurricane Mama McCall.  
“Those dreams feature your deepest hopes and dreams you idiot! That’s private! That’s personal! That’s not yours to know, or yours,” she turned to brandish a finger at Castiel, “Or you.” She turned to look at Derek who only nodded. 

“But to understand…” Castiel started, but Melissa cut him off.

“If he doesn’t want to tell you or explain it you then you don’t get to understand. That’s what being human is about,” her tone was sharp, reproving, and both Dean and Cas finally looked ashamed of themselves. 

“You need to apologize to Stiles for compromising his privacy,” as Cas went to move, she made a slashing motion in the air, “Not now, tomorrow, in private. Now get out,” she sent them from the room with a command that no one, not even Dean Winchester, dared refute. 

Chris left after them, nodding in approval at Melissa before heading off to find his mate.

That left Melissa, John, and Derek, the latter just sat against the wall, silent tears on his face. 

Melissa walked over slowly, and crouched down in front of him “Was it worth it?” her tone was less sharp, but it was still firm. 

Derek shook his head. 

“I thought not. You’ll talk to him tomorrow?” 

Derek nodded almost violently. 

She smiled sadly at him for a moment, then brushed a lock of hair away from his face. Then she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Derek’s forehead “You love him, but that’s no excuse to not give him the space and time he needs to be comfortable with you.”

Derek nodded again.

“Goodnight, Derek.” She stood up, then went to leave, squeezing John’s hand briefly as she passed. 

Then it was just John and Derek. 

John looked at the man crouched on the floor. The Alpha who loved his son. The man who was still almost a child himself. 

“I was being selfish,” Derek almost spat out the words, as if he was so disgusted with what he’d done that he couldn’t bear to say the words at a normal pace. 

“Why’d you do it?” John asked, keeping his voice calm and detached.

“I just… I wanted to know… He keeps so many secrets…” Derek didn’t know what to say, or how to explain that there was part of him that wanted to know absolutely everything about Stiles. 

“Do you know why he left me his journal?” John asked. Derek shook his head. 

“Because he wanted me to know everything, at least everything that he saw fit to write down. He wanted to give me all of the information I might want so that if I chose to turn him out, he wouldn’t wonder why,” John told him, “He chooses what he tells people. He has kept secrets for most of his life it looks like, and trust matters to him more than anything else.”

“I broke it, didn’t I? I broke his trust.” Derek stated, voice slightly less shaky. 

John shrugged, he wasn’t sure how Stiles would react, “Maybe.”

“I’ll make it right,” Derek told the Sheriff. 

“Don’t tell me that, son. Tell Stiles.” John placed a reassuring hand on his Alpha’s shoulder, then he too left the study. 

Derek stayed there all night though, unable to face the prospect of going back to his room, because it would still smell of Stiles on his bed. He curled up with the jacket, which also smelled of Stiles, and he went to sleep. 

TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW--TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW

Stiles woke up with people around him. Hair was in his mouth, and he gently tried to extract it without disturbing whoever was right beside him. He opened his eyes to see Allison staring back at him, laughing silently at him as she pulled her hair out of his face. “Dork,” she whispered. 

“Accurate,” murmured Scott’s voice from behind Stiles. 

“What are you two doing here?” 

“You had a rough night, bro.” Scott reminded him and it all came rushing back to Stiles.

“Shit,” Stiles exhaled, trying to bury his face in the pillow, but Allison prevented him, running a soothing hand over his shoulder as Scott just cuddled up with his best friend. Slowly, the tension in Stiles’ body eased a bit, “Sorry.”

Scott nudged him with his nose, “Don’t apologize.”

“Fine,” Stiles sighed, then Allison’s stomach rumbled. Stiles pushed back at Scott, pulling himself into a sitting position, “Let’s go get breakfast.”

“You sure?” Allison asked.

Stiles just nodded, “It has been one hell of a year so far.”

“Ain’t that the truth” Scott agreed with a nod as he loped over to brush a kiss over Ally’s lips and then grabbed Stiles to drag him downstairs.

As he baked muffins for his friends, Scott and Allison helping and hindering him at the same time, Stiles felt his calm come back to him. Once his favourite lovebirds had eaten he shooed them off, telling them to continue on with their weekend plans. 

He grabbed a bran muffin and a blueberry one and set off to find Derek. He needed to talk to his Alpha and apologize or something. Stiles figured he should start in the study, and was surprised to find Derek asleep on the ground, his jacket in his hands, and while he looked younger in his sleep Stiles could see tear tracks on the man’s face. 

“Shit,” murmured Stiles, feeling bad already for the part he may have played in making his Alpha upset. He put the plate with his muffins on a side table and crouched down to slowly wake Derek up. 

“Dererk,” he nudged the wolf who jerked awake, eyes flashing red in a defensive mechanism. Stiles put up his hands to show the man he wasn’t a threat. Derek pulled his wolf back as he registered his mate’s presence, “Stiles?” 

Derek sounded so confused, and it made him look adorable, not that Stiles would say that out loud. He picked up the plate of muffins and placed them in front of his Alpha. Derek’s brow furrowed, because what Stiles was doing looked like a peace offering and Stiles had no reason to apologize. “You have nothing to apologize for Stiles,” Derek’s voice was rough from sleep and from crying last night. 

Stiles met his gaze full on, “Just take it, Alpha, please.” His voice was quiet, but firm. Derek moved the plate closer to himself, signaling his acceptance of it, but he didn’t eat them yet. 

“Stiles, something happened last night that we… I didn’t tell you,”

“Derek, whatever it is, it’s fine.”

“I doubt that,” Derek replied, then he bit the metaphorical bullet, “Cas gave me access to your dream when you were under the djinn’s magic last night.”

The bottom dropped out of Stiles’ stomach, and he went cold all over, “Wh… what?”

“I know you heard me, Stiles.”

“Wh… why?”

Derek didn’t know how to explain it, “I wanted to know… because I didn’t think you’d be honest with me.”

Stiles was surprised at his Alpha’s honesty, and honestly, it struck him dumb for a moment, because it was true. He would have avoided being honest with Derek until the day he died, but that didn’t make it right. 

“You had no right,” Stiles told him.

“You’re right. I had no right to invade your privacy, Stiles and I apologize for it.”

Derek’s calmness set Stiles on edge, because being in his dream meant he’d seen well, everything. “Did you just see everything or…”

“I could kind of see into your thoughts… that’s how I could tell you that the conversation you had with me before you left was not the same as the one I had with you.”

Stiles was angry now, Derek could feel it, but somehow that helped. At least Stiles was feeling emotions and he wasn’t hiding them from Derek. 

“So, what did you think we talked about?” Stiles voice was tense but he was also firm, he wasn’t letting Derek avoid this conversation. 

“I wanted you to stay. You were panicking and I needed to ground you.” That wasn’t a lie, but he wasn’t going to overload Stiles with everything else at that moment. 

Stiles’ eyes narrowed at him.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me right now.”

“Good, because I don’t.”

Stiles stood up and headed toward the door, “You should eat, Alpha.”

The door closed behind him and Derek took a deep breath before indulging in the baking his mate had made.


	15. Love fixes all problems, right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lera and Stiles chat about love and life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

The departure of the Winchesters and Castiel happened without fanfare. Stiles wasn’t speaking to Dean or Cas, but he’d said his goodbyes to Sam in the morning before heading out for a run. 

He wasn’t shutting Derek out completing though, which was a win for the whole pack, because nobody wanted to repeat the awkward, formal space the duo had cultivated between them after Stiles’ birthday. Once he was sure he was far enough from the house Stiles called Lera. She picked up on the first ring. 

“Stiles?”

“Hey Lera,” Stiles could hear his breathing hitch.

“What’s up kid?”

“A lot,” Stiles replied, running a hand through his hair, tugging on it.   
“Stiles, where are you?”

“The preserve, about 2 miles from the Hale house.”

“Stay there.”

The line disconnected. Then Stiles felt a familiar presence press at the boundary wards, he let her in and suddenly Lera had him in a hug. Stiles didn’t have any more tears to cry, but he appreciated the contact. He was still overcoming what Lera had explained to him was touch-starvation. 

“What happened?”

Stiles stepped back from the hug, to sink down onto the leaves, Lera did the same. 

“There were two more djinns. I killed,” Lera cleared her throat, and he corrected himself with a wry smile “I hunted them. But, I was back there in the djinn dreamscape for a bit. Derek saw it all.”

“How? It’s unheard of people sharing dreamscapes…”

“Cas let him into my dream,” Stiles grumbled.

“I hope you tore him a new one for it. And Derek went along with this?” Lera wasn’t happy to hear this at all. 

Stiles nodded, “Derek apologized. I know it bothered him, but I can’t forgive him yet.”

“Forgiveness is for you, not him. Keep that in mind, Stiles.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“That’s not all of it is it?” Lera knew Stiles by now. 

“He kissed me, before the dream, before the djinn… but the whole situation is tainted by djinn magic. I thought one thing happened, but that’s not what happened. At the same time, I don’t really want to know what happened. Does that make sense?”

“Why don’t you want to know what happened?”

“I think I thought I was ready to tell him, pending rejection notwithstanding, but now, after this kiss – he told me I was having a panic attack, which seems reasonable and that he needed to calm me down – but now I don’t want to know. If… something was there, even if it was temporary, I’m not ready for it.”

Lera nodded, she had suspected as much. Stiles was just getting to a place where he didn’t doubt the people around him, so a relationship, no matter how much he wanted it might not have been the best given his situation. “So, how are you going to deal with it?”

Stiles reached up to tug at his hair, but a brief wave of Lera’s hand stopped him. “Stiles,” her voice was pitched softer, “You can’t just ignore it. Burying your issues isn’t healthy, you know that kiddo.”

“You know, sometimes I miss it,” Stiles sighed, moving his hand to the ground, fiddling with the leaves instead of hurting himself. As he tore leaves to little shreds Lera watched him. 

“Are you considering leaving again?”

Lera’s question caught him off guard. 

“What?”

“Stiles.”

“Maybe… I’m looking at early college acceptances, but I couldn’t do that to dad or the pack so soon after last year.”  
“So, what are you planning on doing?”

“Emissary training?” he phrased it like a question, and he wouldn’t look at her while he spoke. 

“Really?”

Stiles nodded, tearing the leaves more harshly now. 

“Why?”

“Because it’ll connect me to the pack and the land…”

“And Derek.”

Stiles nodded, “I think this might be the best way to get over it. To work together, in an official capacity only. It’ll put limits on what I can and can’t have access to with regards to him.”

“So, you think you’re ready to be his emissary, even though you can’t tell him you’re in love with him?” Lera was skeptical, “And what about when you leave?” 

“We’ve already had that conversation,” Stiles tone was hard, “you promised.” 

Lera put up a hand, “I did and I won’t break it. Stiles… I am not going to tell you that I think this is a brilliant idea.”

“I never said it was,” he replied, “but I’m going to do it. I think so.”

“Of course you are.” Lera leaned back to look at Stiles properly, “Do you want to go back to more regular sessions, just for the next month or so?”

He nodded. 

“My life’s a bit of a shit show right now.”

“I would agree, but I’ve definitely seen or heard worse.”

“What happened to not comparing pain, huh?” Stiles’ lips quirked up in smile as he spoke.

“At least I know you listen to me,” she responded. 

“I always listen.”

“It doesn’t always show kiddo.”

“I know.”

“Maybe you should date someone else…”

“What?” Stiles’ head snapped up, confusion colouring his face. 

“Or at least play the field a bit, it might help. If you’re committed to being your Alpha’s emissary without giving him the option of anything else, then you deserve some happiness too.”

“Sure.”

“Stiles.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Good.” Lera stood up, brushing leaves off of her pants, “It’s cold, go back home, kid. I’ll call you on Tuesday for our session.”

“I’m going to stay out here for a bit,” Stiles was still tearing leaves.

Lera clicked her tongue “Nope,” and snapped her fingers.

Stiles appeared in the living room of the cottage, surprising Peter who was sitting on the couch reading. 

“I hate it when she does that,” muttered the teen as he pushed himself up off the ground, noticing for the first time the chill that clung to him and his clothes. 

“Who?”

“Lera,” Stiles replied to Peter reflexively. 

“What was she doing here?”

“Apparently, telling me to get my ass onto the dating field,” grumbled Stiles as he flopped down onto the chair next to the couch.

“Interesting advice for a council member.”

“She my psychologist.”

“It’s good you’re in therapy. It’s doing wonders for the pack.”

“Do you go?” Stiles asked curiously.

Peter nodded.

“Good for you.”

“So, she thinks you should… date?”

“Love fixes all problems, don’t you know that?” Stiles snarked. 

Peter shook his head at the teen “You know that’s not true.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Especially if you’re not fully comfortable with the idea of love and being loved.”

Stiles smiled at Peter a little sadly, but he nodded.

“Yeah, I know.”


	16. What if we wanted you too?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny asks Stiles out.
> 
> Lydia and Jackson act out. 
> 
> Allison and Scott protect Stiles. 
> 
> Derek gets angry then he comforts his betas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.
> 
> Note: This is some non-con/dub-con kissing in this chapter.

It was due to Lera’s advice that Stiles didn’t immediately turn down Danny’s offer three weeks later, but he would admit to some confusion on his part. 

“Wait, are you asking me to the homecoming dance?”

“Yup, although the longer it takes you to process my words the more concerned I am about the state of your intellect, Stilincki,” Danny leaned against the locker next to Stiles’ and shot the teen a winning smile. Stiles only fleetingly thought about how it didn’t compare to Derek’s at all, before he snapped back to the situation at hand. Danny was asking him on a date?

“As in a date?”

“Or as friends,” Danny hedged, but then flashed another smile at Stiles, “I’d like it to be a date though.”

“Why?” Stiles slammed his locker shut, perhaps a bit harder than necessary, fixing Danny with a calculating look that gave nothing away. 

“I know you know,” Danny leaned closer, “I’m pack adjacent, if that’s what worries you.” He pulled back, but Stiles’ face hadn’t changed. 

“I’m well aware,” as emissary in training (because hell yeah, he’d already spoken to Peter and Derek about it, and both had been supportive, even if things were still a bit strained with Derek) he had to be well versed in the pack’s allies and enemies, Danny was on the ally side, “But that doesn’t answer my question. Is it because I’m the only other out kid at school?”

Danny shook his head, “Nah. You’re cool, and now that it doesn’t cause drama with Jackson, I finally get the chance to ask you out.”

“Finally?”

“Even though he was a big douche, I didn’t want to risk our friendship over a boy I wasn’t sure wanted anything to do with me.”

“You don’t mince words, Danny” Stiles replied, thinking over the offer, and then he nodded, “Sure, why not.”

“As a date?” Danny pressed, leaning closer again. 

Stiles swallowed. He nodded. He had to make the boundaries clear in his life, right? This would help. 

Danny smiled and then removed himself from the lockers “I’ll call you tomorrow to discuss wardrobe.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, already regretting this, when he turned around and walked into Jackson. 

“Shit,” Stiles murmured, prepared to deal with Jackson’s likely scorn regarding his date, but the beta only steadied him, then drew him closer, running a hand over Stiles’ neck and shoulder, “Jax, why are you scenting me in public?” Stiles asked, calm, aware that disrupting his packmate wouldn’t be well-received.

“His scent is all over you.”

Stiles reflected, Danny had been quite close to him, well, at least Jackson wasn’t yelling. 

“It’s just Danny, Jax.” Stiles went to side-step the beta, only to find his path blocked by his favourite redhead, “Hello Lydia.”

“Stiles,” she raised an eyebrow at him as Jackson slipped an arm around her waist, but kept Stiles awkwardly close in front of him, “what were you and Danny talking about?”

“Homecoming.”

“And?”

“And what?” Stiles’ eyes darkened for a moment, a tendril of anger rising up in him, “Did you tell him to ask me out?”

Lydia’s shock wasn’t fake, and Stiles’ anger settled, but then Lydia spoke and she sounded angry. 

“What?”

“Danny and I are going to homecoming together.”

Jackson actually growled low in his throat, but neither human gave him a second look.

“Why aren’t you going with someone from the pack?”

“You mean shack up pack?” Stiles retorted, “Because, I’m unattached, and I’m the only one who is. Plus, Danny’s nice, and normal.”

“Danny’s not good enough for you,” Jackson’s input was unexpected.

“You sure you didn’t mean to flip that sentence, and say I’m not good enough for Danny? But, chill, it won’t go anywhere probably.”

“So, you’re playing with him?” Lydia asked, voice flat.

“No, but I need to deal with my shit, and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have help with that,” Stiles told her honestly. He hefted his bag off the ground, stepping away from Jackson and Lydia, the halls having cleared after the last bell awhile ago. 

“What about Derek?”

Just the name made a part of Stiles crumble inside “I’m not… I’m not sure what I want or need, but I know what he does and it’s not me right now.”

“How can you just step outside the pack like this?” There was a sadness and if it hadn’t been Lydia speaking, Stiles would have said she sounded almost desperate.

“You’re all great, Lyds, but you are all happily spoken for…”

“What if we wanted you too?”

Stiles looked so damn confused after Jackson spoke, then his lit up, and he chuckled, “Nice one, guys. Way to cheer me…” He didn’t get a chance to continue his self-deprecation because suddenly, Jackson was kissing him and what the hell? It was soft, not like Derek’s kisses, but caring yet deep. Hands were on his waist, not bruising, but solid. And then as the beta moved away there was Lydia, fire and passion overwhelmed her kiss, as arms circled his neck and nails bit into his neck. Stiles’ head was spinning due to lack of oxygen and surprise. His body had frozen, he hadn’t kissed either of them back, and he pushed away from both of them, exuding hurt and confusion from every pore. 

“Stiles…” Jackson’s voice sounded pained.

A growl at his back sounded, and he didn’t have to look to know it was Scott. His best friend came up and tugged him back, Allison stepping in front of him. Her face was stone cold “Go.” She didn’t need to speak twice.

“What the ever-loving hell was that?” Allison’s voice was angry without being loud, but even so Stiles flinched from the emotion in her tone. She stepped forward, “Oh, Stiles… I didn’t mean you,” she went to move closer, but given what had just happened felt completely justified in stepping back and she took the hint “Are you okay?”

Then she huffed, “What a dumb question, of course you aren’t.”

“Can we drive you home, buddy?” Scott was a solid and warm presence at his back. Scott wouldn’t hurt him, right. Stiles turned, nodded, and then Scott pulled him into a tight hug. He could feel Scott working their pack bond to strengthen and calm him, in any other situation Stiles would be grinning and telling his brother how proud of him he was, but their continued hugging would have to do for now. 

Slowly, the knot that was Scott and Stiles walked out the side door, and down to the parking lot, Allison watching their backs. Scott fished the Jeep keys out of Stiles’ bag, and gently bundled his friend into the car. Allison, sitting behind Stiles, tentatively grab her friend’s hand and he held onto her tightly. 

“Why? Why would they do that?” Stiles mumbled, his head still feeling like it was under water, as he watched the landscape slip by. He’d closed off his direct ties to Lydia and Jackson the moment they’d stepped back from him, of course he’d still know if they were in danger, but he couldn’t deal with whatever twisted emotions had prompted them to do that to him. 

Allison just squeezed his hand, and Scott kept his eyes, burning beta gold, on the road to the cottage. 

Derek felt Stiles’ distress, although the rest of the pack probably didn’t because their new emissary kept secrets like Ambrose Spellman collected dressing gowns. Stiles didn’t know about the mate bond yet, he probably thought it was the emissary bond, but Derek was thankful for it, because even when Stiles shut them out he still had an in, not that he used it often. His most recent endeavor to understand Stiles without the teen’s consent had been stupid and misguided, and it had cost him some trust with Stiles. But his mate’s distress was not something he could ignore.

He got up from the couch, intent on checking on Stiles, when Jackson and Lydia flew in through the door, guilt, shame, and the overwhelming scent of Stiles pouring off of them, as well as an undercurrent of lust running through the storm cloud of their emotions. Derek growled instinctively at them. He could smell it on them. They’d touched his mate, held him, kissed him. 

Peter stepped in between them, as Jackson whimpered and exposed his throat, Lydia although she was not a wolf, felt the need to make herself vulnerable too, and copied Jackson. 

“What the hell happened?” Derek growled out, red eyes glowing fiercely at them. 

“I… I don’t know,” it was Lydia who answered. Derek growled and she quickly continued explaining, “One minute he was talking about Danny taking him to homecoming and then it was like we had decided he was ours, and then…” she trailed off as Derek’s eyes continued to glow, but the alpha was taking deep breaths, pulling himself back, he knew this was a risk when he’d let Stiles go without having that conversation. 

“It wasn’t… it wasn’t your fault, either of you,” Derek gritted out the words around his fangs, pulling back his shift, his eyes still glowing. 

Jackson whimpered again, confusion colouring his scent. 

“When an alpha’s mate bond is pending the alpha’s intended is meant to be protected by the whole pack, as practice for the future. Protection can extend from basic things to physical intimacy; if it means keeping the potential mate around your bonds will push you to do it.”

“But only, if you would have done it already. It won’t force you into anything,” Peter interjected, “It only echoes what you would do if you had no qualms for convention or the like.”

“We might not have been forced,” Lydia whispered, “but he… he was… Oh my god!” She started to cry, and Derek, his eyes dimming went to her and Jackson, anger still in his body, but he had a duty to his pack, and comfort would always come first. He pulled them both to him, tightly, scenting them, and trying to ignore the scent of Stiles that clung so intensely to both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, why can't they just be happy? Well, I have an arc in mind, and it'll come eventually. We're only just over half way through.


	17. Forever and a Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.
> 
> *Small smut warning ahead.

Stiles kept his distance from the pack house for the week leading up to homecoming. He never neglected his emissary duties, but he found ways to let Derek know things without talking to the wolf in person. He’d also started slipping away from the rest of the pack after Erica and Boyd had almost re-enacted his last encounter with Lydia and Jackson. According to Peter, he’d tensely asked about whether this was an unwritten ritual for emissaries. The elder wolf had reassured it wasn’t but he had sent Stiles off with several possibilities to research. He desperately hoped the young man would consider the mate bond a possibility in his research.

John was not thrilled at all when Scott had finally come out and told the man why Stiles wasn’t at the Hale house as often. He’d confronted Derek, in the Alpha’s private study, but his fury lost its edge when the Alpha explained that this was usually a last ditch effort by a bond to connect mates. John seriously wanted to lock his son and Alpha into a closet for their mutual pining and obliviousness. “He doesn’t see the option, Derek! Stop wallowing as if you’ve already lost him, because at this rate you will.”

With his piece said John left in a huff. Derek, who has been wallowing heard the Sheriff’s words bounce around in his head. He was looking at Stiles like a battle he’d already lost. Stiles was worth fighting for and here he was pining, like an idiot. His wolf growled in agreement. Finally, his human half had caught up. He pulled himself up out of his slouch and began to strategize; he didn’t have much time. 

Scott offered his house for Stiles to get ready at in advance of homecoming for which his best friend was grateful. As Stiles tied a skinny black tie eyeing his reflection critically in the mirror Scott watched him. “What’s up Scotty?”

“Are you happy to be going out with Danny?”

“It’s homecoming, Scott, not a life sentence.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Sure. Danny’s great.”

“But he isn’t who you’d pick if you could?”

Stiles paused, then his shoulders fell “No.”

“Well, Danny’s lucky to have you, bro. Derek’s missing out.”

Stiles was touched by Scott’s sincerity. “Thanks bro, but some things just aren’t meant to be I guess.”

“I don’t know... sometimes you just have to wait a little bit for the happy ending.”

Stiles met Scott’s eyes via the mirror. “What aren’t you telling me, Scott?”

“Well, I couldn’t help but notice that packmates supposedly sometimes lust after their Alpha’s mate?” The beta nodded at one of the magic books Peter had loaned to Stiles.

Stiles laughed hollowly. “Damn, Scotty. That’s a good one! Does the harvest moon tonight make your intelligence keener or something?”

“You know that it actually makes us more protective of pack, Stiles,” groused Scott, But his tone turned serious, “Stiles, about you and Derek...”

Stiles cut him off. “There is no us, Scotty. It’s a crush on the unattainable, just like with Lydia. It’s my curse, bro.” The doorbell ran then and Stiles left after patting Scott on the head to be whisked off to the dance by Danny.

Allison and Scott arrived at the same time as Lydia and Jackson. Allison nodded at them but didn’t stop to chat, pulling Scott into the school after her. It wasn’t hard to spot Stiles and Danny in the gym; they made a pretty picture as they danced. 

A whine sounded near Scott, and he turned to glare at Erica. “He’s not ours!” Boyd reminded his girlfriend although he looked put out too. 

“Stiles doesn’t belong to anyone.” Allison commented, steel in her tone.

“But our pack belongs to him,” Scott remarked, looking almost surprised at his own comment. But the moment he said it he knew it was true. Stiles was the heart of their pack; they needed him to keep living and thriving. The rest of the pack made noises of agreement when they noticed that Stiles had slipped away and Danny with him.

Jackson pulled out his phone.

“Who are you texting?” Cora inquired, tucked against Isaac’s side.

“Alpha,” Jackson replied, not looking up, “Danny’s has a game plan and if he sticks to it, well, let’s just say it might kick Derek into gear.”

Cora grinned, “Finally. Honestly, I’m sick of Der’s pining,” she paused, “Although if this works we’ll all be inundated with their lovey-dovey crap 24/7. Whatever, it’ll be an improvement. Plus Stiles deserves this.”

“Not Derek?” Lydia inquired.

“Derek too but he has put Stiles through pining hell unintentionally so I would say the Spark wins my sympathies in this situation.”

“I agree,” murmured Isaac.

Jackson checked his phone and smiled, “He’s on his way now.”

The whole pack of teenagers smirked, hoped, and wished as their Alpha rushed down his driveway in his car, heading toward his mate. He couldn’t lose him now, not yet when he was so close. Derek delved into their bond lightly and saw rather than felt lips that were not his ghosting over his mate’s. He growled and pressed down harder on the gas pedal.

Danny’s lips were soft. His hands were big and warm, lightly calloused. He had a bright laugh and a easy smile, but Stiles couldn’t do it. A few moments later he broke away from Danny, taking a step back. “I’m...”

“Don’t apologize,” Danny cut him off, “There’s someone else, isn’t there? Someone you’re not over?”

Stiles nodded, ducking his head. “I shouldn’t have said yes when you asked...”

“Stiles, you didn’t lead me on. You were clear from the beginning you weren’t sure where you wanted this to go.”

Danny ran a hand through his own hair, “I will say that I’m jealous of them, whoever they are.”

Stiles’ forehead creased and he bit his lip in confusion as Danny leaned back against the tile in the freshly cleaned lacrosse locker room showers. 

Danny groaned, “Fuck yeah, I’m jealous. Tell them to hang onto you or I might just ask you out again” He stepped forward, “Can I just kiss you again, one last time? I swear that’s it.”

Stiles’ forehead evened out again and he nodded tentatively. Danny traced his jaw with a finger, “You’re so damn hot, Stiles. Remember that, for me, eh?” and after that Danny drew him into a dirty kiss that had Stiles almost wishing he could let himself go and enjoy this it was so good. Finally, they parted for air and Stiles pecked Danny on the cheek after a second and whispered “Thank you” before slipping out of the locker room. 

Danny leaned back hoping that Stiles found some happiness soon because damn, he was amazing. Finally, Danny calmed down enough to readjust himself and head back out to the dance. 

Stiles though he slipped out of the school and started to walk, it was chilly outside but he wrapped his Spark around himself and headed off under the watchful glow of the moon. 

Derek’s Camaro skidded to a halt outside of the school and he ducked inside following Stiles’ scent toward the locker rooms where another muskier scent overlaid with arousal mashed against Stiles’ homey scent. Derek growled when he reached the locker room, which stank of arousal, mostly Danny’s but still a curl of Stiles’ teased his nose. They had been here, together. His wolf growled and he needed to get out of the room before he did something stupid like track down Danny and growl at the boy. Derek pressed his wolf to redirect, urging it to follow Stiles’ trail so he did, leading himself back outside. He kept the window down as he drove, following the scent trail until it lead him to a once familiar house. John and Stiles still occasionally made use of their old home but eventually they planned to sell it or rent it out. 

Derek parked down the street then leapt lightly onto the roof. He could smell Stiles here, and quietly, ever so quietly he slipped into his emissary’s old room like he had so many times before. The sound of running water reached his ears and he realized with a jolt that Stiles was in the shower. His clothes for the dance were bundled up in a bag. Derek pawed at it, curiously, then got a whiff of arousal, Danny, and Stiles. He batted it away as if offended, which of course was what Stiles saw as he exited the steamy bathroom, shirtless, black sweatpants that Derek was sure were his slung on the Spark’s hips. 

Derek froze. His wolf had got him this far, into Stiles’ space, but his words were what he needed right now. Except he was finding it hard to concentrate with Stiles shirtless in front of him although the steam obscured most of him. The young Spark started in surprise, calling forth a miniature water spout for protection before he fully recognized his Alpha. He blushed then, the pink flush tinging his entire torso as the steam began to dissipate and the Alpha was teased with glimpses of skin and tattoos Stiles summoned a Henley from his closet. He pulled it on hastily, effectively covering himself, although Derek took note that the Henley was actually one of his too. He must have let Stiles borrow the clothes to wear home after the kelpie attack that had drenched them early on the year before.

“Alpha,” Stiles’ tone was curious but respectful, “what’s wrong?”

“Us.” Derek could have kicked himself. It wasn’t a stellar opening line, but he needed to forge ahead. “I don’t want it to be like this between us. Awkward. Stilted. Uncomfortable. I’m not okay with running our pack like that. I won’t let it continue.” He paused then corrected himself “well, I don’t want to let it continue.”

“Oh.” That one word was full of so much sorrow and resignation Derek actually whined. He stepped toward Stiles who had finally closed the bathroom door and when he didn’t move the werewolf stepped closer, until they were almost touching.

“I can’t stand this distance anymore. I won’t do it, Stiles.”

“Oh.” There it was again. The sadness pulsed around his mate again but that just wouldn’t do. 

“Do you know why I came to check on you tonight?” Derek’s words were light puffs of air that tickled Stiles’ ear and throat. 

“Because I’m pack.” murmured the Spark.

“No. It was never about you just being pack, Stiles. I came after you because my wolf wouldn’t hear of me staying home, without you, again.” Derek leaned closer relishing the shiver of lust that ran through Stiles; his wolf purred. “My wolf’s rather fond of you. Being in that locker room where you and Danny were earlier, he damn near went out of his mind.” He’d whispered these last words directly into Stiles’ ear and he couldn’t resist latching onto the lobe of it with his teeth, gently biting then soothing it with his tongue. 

A flame of arousal shot through Stiles as he tried to stay upright and figure out what the hell was going on. “Der,” he started to speak when Derek nipped his ear again. The Alpha continued to speak “But it’s not just my wolf that’s fond of you; it’s me, Stiles. I. Want. You.” Each of the last three words he punctuated with a kiss to Stiles’ neck. The lust coming off of his mate was mixing with his into an intoxicating cloud and his wolf growled its approval until Stiles opened his eyes, confusion, sadness, and frustration evident in them as Derek felt rather than saw his emissary’s eyes flash and send him almost gently across the room. 

Derek was bound, caught by his mate’s magic. And what was worse was the sour and bitter taste of Stiles’ scent as embarrassment and anger flow over the Spark. “Stiles?” Derek asked, unafraid but severely confused. Stiles walked over to him, carefully, and went on instinct to put a reassuring hand on Derek’s shoulder but his wolf was so near the surface that the Alpha ended up trying to lave his emissary’s fingers with his tongue. He wanted to taste the man so badly. 

Stiles pulled his hand away as if burned. Ghosting a hand over Derek’s forehead quickly as if checking for a fever. “It’s okay Alpha, I’ll fix this. Whoever did this...”

 

“What?” Derek panted out. The full moon was in two days but the harvest moon that night was testing his control. “Fix what?”

“Der,” Stiles’ voice would be soothing if not for the words he was speaking, “someone’s done something to make you act this way. If...” Stiles paused hands shaking “If that’s what you need to break this, I’ll give it to you. Whatever you want, but I just need to make sure it won’t hurt you.”

Derek couldn’t believe his ears. Even his wolf was frozen. Stiles thought he was under a spell, and he was still ready to do that... to do anything for Derek. With a loud growl Derek threw all his might into the tentative bond they’d been building, even though Stiles was unaware. He let his affection, love, and lust crash into the bond like a tidal wave. Stiles lost his concentration loosening his magic, which let Derek catch his Spark before he collapsed. 

Stiles looked up at Derek from the Alpha’s lap, eyes glazed and awestruck. “I don’t understand,” he whispered.

“You’re my mate, Stiles. I’m yours. Your Alpha.” Derek spoke the words with conviction, reassuring Stiles with the sincerity and authenticity that he projected through the mate bond. 

“My Alpha?” The wonder in Stiles’ voice as he reached up to caress Derek’s cheek made the Alpha purr.

“Yours. Always yours.”

Stiles lifted his hands up to his face, counting his fingers. Derek pulled him up right onto his lap so that the Spark was straddling his thighs. Then he curved an arm around him to keep him up and then he counted off each of Stiles’ fingers for him with his other hand. 

“There are ten, baby. Do you believe me?”

Stiles didn’t know what to say or do. Then bond was filling the cracks of doubt in his mind with joy, love, and lust. Derek was here. Derek was here, holding him. Counting his fingers. Calling him baby. Could he have this? Was Stiles allowed someone like Derek? Was he worthy?

“You are worthier of love than anyone else I know,” Derek responded to his mate’s unintentionally aired thoughts by pulling Stiles closer. His mate’s scent began to clear again, taking on wisps of arousal and joy as Stiles processed what was going on. 

“Stiles, baby,” Stiles snapped back to the moment, “may I kiss you?”

He didn’t have to think. Instead of replying, Stiles leaned forward to kiss Derek. The Alpha detected the overwhelming taste of peppermint and he drew back. “Did you brush your teeth, baby?”

Stiles squirmed in Derek’s lap. Then nodded, “I didn’t want to smell like Danny when I came home.”

Derek growled in approval. “Will you let me make you smell like me?” Stiles’ eager nod was cut off by a deeper, dirtier kiss from the Alpha. Stiles’ soft moans spurred him on as he smelt his mate’s pleasure mounting. It was making him dizzy and as he poured it into their bond he created a pleasure feedback loop that caused Stiles’ entire body to feel the buzz of arousal. They kept kissing, Stiles unknowingly having shifted until he was perched on one of Derek’s thighs, riding it, chasing a high that made the fire in his belly burn hotter and hotter until it crested. 

Derek could smell the moment Stiles came, and that almost sent the Alpha over the edge too. He grasped Stiles’ face, pulling him into another kiss, cradling his head as he rolled them onto the floor and he found his own release as he looked down at the blissed out look on his mate’s face. His eyes flashed red and almost immediately in response, Stiles’ flashed purple. He growled in response, unable to go again so soon but Stiles’ magic did things to him that he couldn’t deny. 

He nosed over Stiles happily, so tempted to nose at his mate’s crotch to get closer to that tempting scent but he felt that might be a line to cross another day. Now that they weren’t frenzied or kissing he could smell tendrils of embarrassment creep up around Stiles. The Spark tucked his head into Derek’s neck both hiding and scent marking at the same time.

“What is it, baby?” Derek cooed.

“I’m sorry; I just... It was a lot to take in and I didn’t even do anything...”

Derek would not have that continue, “Sweetheart,” that caught Stiles off guard and cut off his self-deprecation “that was one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced. Besides,” he moved Stiles’ hand slowly to his jeans, ghosting over the wet spot he’d made, “I was pretty damn eager too.” Stiles blushed, but let Derek keep his hand where it was for a moment or two. 

“We should change,” murmured Stiles, making to sit up as Derek groaned but let him up. Stiles shook off the Alpha’s light grip and quickly ducked into the bathroom having grabbed another set of clothes on his way. Derek sighed, rummaging through the drawers to find his extra set of clothes stashed here long ago. He dressed quickly, inhaling the tangled scents in the rain happily.

Derek wished he’d taken another moment to ingrain the smell of everything on Stiles’ skin before his mate washed it off, but then the bathroom door opened. Stiles hadn’t showered. The clothes he’d worn were in a clear bag of some sort. 

“Vacuum seal bags... they store scent really well,” mumbled Stiles and Derek took the bag from him with wonder. His mate was so clever; so ready to please the wolf and the man. 

“Thank you, Stiles.” He reeled the Spark in for a tamer kiss. When they parted Stiles felt a frisson of fear that wasn’t his own arc through the bond, Der?” 

“I’m not going to lose you when the sun comes up am I? You won’t go back to thinking this a spell or a dream? You’ll keep me?”

Stiles’ heart swelled with affection for his wolf. “I’ll keep you for forever and a day, Sourwolf.”


	18. Of Bets, Betas, and Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek are together. The pack finds out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

Derek didn’t want to let his mate go. He knew this would be part of it, but he hadn’t realized how literal wanting to spend every moment with his mate would feel, especially considering how much time he spent with Stiles beforehand. They had finally left the old Stilinski house, with Derek driving one hand back to the Hale House, Stiles’ left hand securely in his right. 

As he parked the car he could both smell and sense a tinge of anxiety creeping up Stiles’ neck, “Stiles?”

“The pack knows, don’t they?” he murmured, twisting his hand away from Derek’s to wring his hands, “My dad knew, everyone did, they must think I’m so stupid.”

Derek clasped his mate’s hands in his own, stopping Stiles’ frantic movements. “You’re not stupid,” he paused then decided to continue speaking, “Yes, they know, but it was mostly me and my inability to communicate that got them riled up. Pretty sure your Dad thinks I’m hopeless,” Derek’s face featured a soft smile at his words. Stiles was entranced by that smile; it was the same smile that djinn Derek had, but this time Stiles, real Stiles, was the reason for that smile. It settled some of the Spark’s anxiety. 

“I want to do this properly, Stiles,” Derek murmured, rubbed soothing circles in the back of Stiles’ left hand, “I want to court you, like my mother courted my father. Will you do me that honour, Stiles?”

“What… what does that entail?” Stiles asked, curious. 

“Peter has some books on it if you want to see them, but mostly it’s about proving to you, and the pack that I’ll be the best Alpha I can be with you by my side.”

“But you already are the best Alpha,” Stiles told him, eyes determined as he looked at Derek, “You don’t need me for that.”

Derek grinned at that, shaking his head “Let’s just say there is always room for improvement then. I want to court you, because I want to spoil you, baby. I want to let you know that you have options.”

“I don’t have options. I have you,” Stiles remarked, eyes sharp, “You’re my choice, Derek.”

The strength in that statement made Derek’s wolf want to howl in joy, but human Derek wanted to do this right. “I want to do this for you, will you let me?”

Stiles bit his lip, eyes narrowing in thought, then he nodded slowly. “Yes, Alpha Hale, I will allow you to court me… Does this have a time limit or schedule?” 

“Six months to a year, but that’s a guideline. We can actually talk about what you’re comfortable and uncomfortable with soon.”

“And you.”

Derek quirked an eyebrow at him.

“I won’t be the only one with limits, Sourwolf. I know there are things you will and won’t want. I won’t do this if it’s not about us.”

Derek smiled again. “I could get used to your smiles, Der,” Stiles murmured and then, just because he could, he leaned forward to kiss that smile, lightly. 

Derek kept smiling, and even though he didn’t say it, he thought it ‘I could get used to forever with you, Stiles.’

They ambled up to the front door of the house, chatting idly, hands intertwined and as they walked into the hallway Derek laughed at something Stiles said, before he almost had a heart attack, with Peter leaning against the coat rack. “You owe me sixty bucks, Chris!” Peter called out into the kitchen. 

Derek and Stiles looked confused, as a groan came from the kitchen “I think that means you owe me $120, Hale,” quipped John as he descended the staircase, a twinkle in his eye as he surveyed his son and Alpha, holding hands no less. Stiles blushed under his gaze but kept his Alpha’s hand in his and that made John’s heart swell with happiness. His kid deserved a slice of domestic bliss after everything.

“You bet on us?” Stiles squawked, as Derek rolled his eyes, mumbling something that sounded like, “Of course.”

“Well, Melissa gets half,” John hedged as he winked at his son, “So, keeping me in the loop?”

Stiles continued blushing, but smiled too, gesturing at his hand intertwined with Derek’s “Mates.”

“Congratulations, kiddo!” He hugged his son, and Stiles let go of Derek’s hand to bear hug his father; this was everything Stiles had always wanted, acceptance and love. Eventually, the Stilinski men let each other go, both of them with wet eyes, but then John gestured to Derek “You too, son” and he bundled the Alpha into a tight hug too. Derek found his eyes wet when they broke apart too, but no one mentioned it. By then, Melissa and Chris had appeared, and the duo were passed along for hugs, scentings, and money changed hands as they all headed into the kitchen to celebrate with hot chocolate.

As the teenage pack members rolled up the drive, back from the dance the ones with the best noses smelt the mixed scents of their Alpha and pack mom. Jackson fist pumped, sweeping Lydia from his car and as the couple entered the house he and the other betas were met with the scent of pack and home in a way that they never had been before. The betas were somewhat drunk on it and it made their acceptance of the relationship even more enthusiastic. 

At one point, Jackson and Lydia and Erica and Boyd all caught Stiles to apologize for their actions before the bond had been recognized, but he forgave them heartily, giving each pack member a tight, comforting hug. He even ruffled Jackson’s hair, thanking him quietly for texting Derek earlier that evening. Finally, though as the evening wore on Stiles could feel the toll of the emotional day getting to him, and after doing some washing up with Peter, Allison, and his Dad, he pressed a soft kiss to Derek’s forehead and left for his mom’s cottage with his Dad. 

“I’m really happy for you, Mica” his Dad told him as they shed their jackets and shoes. 

“I’m still not entirely convinced it’s real, Dad, but I’m happy too.”

“You’ve still got me though, Mischief. For anything. I know you trust Derek, I do too, but if you need me or just want to talk. I’m here for you, first and foremost.”

“I know, Dad. I love you.”

“Love you too, Mica.”

Stiles almost skipped upstairs, but before he moved he looked seriously at his dad, “I won’t do anything that’ll conflict with your job, Dad. I know you probably wanted to talk about it tomorrow, but I’m serious. It’ll matter to Derek, so it matters to me. If he sleeps over it won’t be… well, that.”

John shook his head at his kid, a small, fond but exasperated smile on his face, “I appreciate that, Mischief. Now go to bed.”

“Night, Daddio.”

“Night, Mica.”

Stiles closed his bedroom door and took a moment to breathe in. It looked the same as it had that morning, but oh so much had changed since then. 

He went to brush his teeth and get ready for bed, one ear listening, wondering if he would come that night, and when his wards reached out to him to notify him of his visitor he huffed out a laugh. He walked out of the bathroom to find his Alpha sitting, no, lounging on his desk chair. Derek looked confident, but Stiles could sense an undercurrent of insecurity through the bond. He didn’t know exactly how to work the bond yet, so the Spark chose to sit down on the edge of his bed. 

“Der? You okay?”

Derek swallowed, “I heard you talking to your Dad.”

Stiles nodded, unsure why his conversation with his Dad would make Derek uncomfortable, but he felt it was best to let the man talk. 

“I… You… You shouldn’t miss out on things because of me.”

Oh, Stiles could tell where this was going now and he was not having it. He stood up, and went to set himself on his Alpha’s lap, tipping the man’s chin up so that he had to look him in the eye. His other hand brought one of Derek’s hands and placed it over his heart. 

“You listen to me Derek Hale, and you listen to me well. I was serious tonight when I told you that this will be about us or nothing. I will never ask you to do something you are truly uncomfortable with, and I took a leap assuming that me being of age would be one of those things. Was I wrong?”

Derek closed his eyes. 

Stiles repeated the question “Was I wrong?”

Derek shook his head slowly. 

“If I don’t have your enthusiastic consent for something, Der, it’s not happening. I care about you. If you never wanted to have sex I would happily, HAPPILY, comply. Doing this means both of us being comfortable with the pace and limits of whatever we do, okay?”

Derek was struck dumb. He could only nod. 

“Good. Now, are you staying? Because I probably should try to sleep tonight.”

“I wanted to give you space tonight and then I found myself here,” muttered Derek, a dark blush on his cheeks. Stiles chuckled “I’m glad you did.”

“Stiles, may I kiss you?”

“You never have to ask for that, Sourwolf.” 

They kissed, lightly, no rush to their movements. Eventually, they broke apart and Stiles’ forehead touched Derek’s and their breath intermingled. 

“I adore you,” Stiles murmured.

Derek didn’t know what to say, so instead he pushed love through their bond, watching Stiles blush in response to his actions.

“So, you’re staying?”

Derek nodded, then kissed Stiles again, quickly, just because he could. 

Stiles finally shimmed off of him, and rooted through his drawers before holding out a pair of Derek’s sweats to the Alpha. “Trying to get me shirtless, baby?” Derek asked, a bit of swagger in his voice. In response Stiles blushed again, but then mumbled something about how he figured since werewolves ran hot anyway. Derek took pity on him, swooping in and kissing his Spark again. “You’re right, Stiles. I’ll go change.” Stiles settled himself in bed, turning the lights off as he curled up on his side of the bed and then Derek appeared, definitely shirtless but it was how comfortable he looked that made Stiles smile. As the Alpha settled on Stiles’ other side he curled toward his mate, opening his arms and Stiles went happily, cuddling with his Alpha. 

“Why did you have my sweatpants, Stiles?” Derek asked.

“I might have temporarily misappropriated them from your closet,” the Spark confessed, “They’re comfy, like a hug.”

Derek purred at Stiles’ response. He went to card his hand through Stiles’ hair, but the Spark grabbed his hand instead, interlocking their fingers and bringing them away from his hair. “I’ll tell you why tomorrow,” Stiles murmured.

The Alpha made a sound of agreement, and slowly, they drifted off to sleep.


	19. Discussions and Gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More fluff and friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

Derek woke up in a bit of a haze. His wolf and human sides had never felt more in sync, but it took him a moment to figure out why. The sun was just coming up, sending rays of light into a room that did not belong to Derek. A small snuffle drew Derek’s attention to the Spark currently curled up in his arms. He smiled down at Stiles, going again on instinct to pet the man’s hair when he remembered Stiles stopping him from doing that the night before. He pulled his hand back and not a moment too soon as another less sleepy snuffle sounded from the Spark and then Derek heard a murmured, “Alpha?” 

“I’m right here, Stiles.”

Stiles hummed happily as he slowly opened his eyes, blinking up at Derek. The Alpha’s breath caught in his throat as he looked at his mate, sleepy, vulnerable, and so happy that the room smelled like sunshine even though the sun was nowhere close to fully risen. 

Derek leaned in and kissed his mate softly, rewarded by a happy purring sound from the human that sounded almost wolflike. Stiles smiled him afterward “Good morning, Der.” 

“Morning, Stiles.”

“You’re going to have to let me go eventually you know,” murmured Stiles even as he hunkered down into the cuddle. 

“Why?”

“Cause I’ve got things to do, Sourwolf. And you do too.”

“You’re tired and it’s just past dawn, Stiles. What do you have to do right now?”

“Run, Sourwolf,” Stiles kissed him quickly using Derek’s relaxation into the kiss to slip out of his grip, “I need to keep up with our pack somehow.”

Derek probably wouldn’t have said it if they weren’t settling into their bond, but a large part of him just wanted Stiles to be safe at all times. “I could just give you the Bite.”

It was an offhand comment, Stiles knew that, but his body still froze once he’d he pulled himself to the edge of the bed. He could feel through the bond the moment Derek’s mind seemed to catch up with his mouth. 

“Stiles... I didn’t mean that. I know you don’t want it. You’re enough as you are, you’re more than enough,” Derek’s words tripped out of his mouth as his mate sat, still and silent at the edge of the bed. He sat up with the intention of pulling Stiles against him and soothing him. Instead, Stiles stood up, stepping out of his reach and started to pace.

“I guess we’re doing this now,” he muttered underneath his breath, “Why do you think I refused Peter’s bite, Derek?” 

The question caught Derek a bit off guard but his mate would have no patience for the twinge of jealousy the Alpha felt thinking about another Alpha making that offer to him. “Because he was insane and violent. He presented a life where that’s what werewolves always are.”

“Not exactly, no.”

Stiles wouldn’t stop pacing, his hands tapping the air and his legs as he walked. “Taking the Bite exacerbates bad traits, like we saw with Jackson when he turned kanima. I couldn’t... I didn’t take Peter up on his offer because I was, I still am for the record, afraid of what traits the Bite would augment for me. I’m easily distracted. I can be cold and clinical. I’ve already killed as a human. I don’t want to subject any of you to the worst of me, not like that, not when there’s a chance that is what you’ll get from biting me. Do you understand?”

Derek wanted to nod immediately. He could feel Stiles’ conviction about this, but at the same time his mate deserved his thorough examination of his reasons. 

Derek moved over onto Stiles side of the bed, and sat on the edge so that he was closer to his pacing mate. 

“You focus when we need you most. You’re logical and realistic not cold. When you came back I knew you’d have killed things to protect others, none of that scares me or the pack.”

Stiles was listening, but he didn’t stop moving.

“I want you to know that I would be honoured if you took the Bite, ever, but I will never try to use it as a bargaining chip or a joke again. It’s a gift,” Stiles chuckled at that as did Derek, “which means it needs to be wanted by both parties. I’m sorry I said that.”

Stiles raked a hand through his hair, leaving it messier than when he’d woken up before he spoke. “If I ever change my mind Der, I’ll tell you first. But until then...”

“No more talk of it,” Derek rose, drawing Stiles out of his pacing as the Spark blatantly checked out his Alpha. “So, you going to run?”

Stiles’ eyes were on Derek’s chest, smooth skin calling out for him to touch, but he just refrained. He snapped his eyes away. That part of the Bite he wouldn’t mind too much. 

“You can look, baby,” Derek was much closer now. He pulled one of Stiles’ hands up from his sides and placed it against his chest, where his heartbeat sounded, “I like it when you look at me. You don’t just see my body; you see all of me.”

Stiles took a step forward and leaned his forehead against his mate’s chest, letting the man’s heat and steady heartbeat soothe him. “Always all of you, Der. I want all of you,” murmured Stiles into his mate’s skin causing the Alpha to shiver. 

Derek wanted nothing more in that moment than to toss Stiles onto the bed and map his Spark’s body with with his hands and tongue but he refrained. As Stiles stepped back so did he, although he was happy to see Stiles’ eyes were slightly hooded too. Then Stiles went to grab some workout gear, changed in the bathroom away from the temptation of his mate, and pressed a soft kiss to Derek’s lips before he left the cottage.

Derek drifted off to sleep again with memories of those soft kisses easing him into dream land.  
—————  
Stiles came back an hour later, covering his scent and heartbeat so as not to disturb his mate. He ran a quick shower and with Derek still sleeping, headed downstairs where he found his dad making tea. 

“Morning kiddo.”

“Morning.”

John passed his son a mug full of hot water, in which Stiles eagerly set about steeping some Earl Grey. 

“He’s here right?” John asked, aiming for casual.

Stiles nodded. John relaxed. 

“Good.”

Stiles raised his eyebrows in a silent question. 

“You need someone who will watch out for you, Mischief. I like that Derek does that.”

“I can take care of myself, Dad” Stiles replied a bit defensively.

“I know that, but you shouldn’t have to do it all alone.”

“I’m not, not anymore.” 

“I know, kiddo.”  
———-  
After an early breakfast with his Dad, Stiles set himself up in the library to read books on werewolf mates. At 7am Derek sent him a text telling him that he was heading back to the house, and Stiles smiled at his phone before returning to his work. 

Lydia dropped in with Allison at around 9am, Scott following half an hour later. At first the three did homework while Stiles researched, but eventually Scott cracked and closed his history book with a sharp snap. “Come on, Stiles.”

Stiles looked up from his book, confused, “Come on...?” 

“I spent the first few months of my relationship with Ali talking your ear off, it’s time for me to repay the favour.”

Stiles frowned.

“Oh come on, Stilinski you’re not that thick,” Lydia huffed although she could tell he’d been thinking that aside from increased pack stability he’d thought none of them would really care. 

“I’m not going to...”

“Don’t say the words bore, bother, or annoy,” Allison interjected, “because we’re your friends and we’re excited for you. This is a big deal. Not because it’s our Spark and our Alpha, but because it involves you and Derek. So, spill.”

“Ummm...”

Stiles’ hesitancy made Scott’s wolf whine because he knew he was the reason that his brother didn’t remember how it felt to confide the good stuff to his friends. So he decided to lead Stiles to the type of stuff they were curious about without being too invasive. 

“He didn’t stay at the house last night.”

Stiles blushed, flipping a page in his book, avoiding their gazes. “Yeah, he stayed here. With me.” He mumbled. 

“And your dad is cool with that?” Allison asked.

“We’re not going to... I mean, I’m not eighteen yet,” Stiles stumbled over his words, and he felt his blush worsen. Lydia reached over to squeeze his hand and he looked up, tentatively, “I think that’s considerate.” She got it, Stiles realized, so he smiled back. 

“I’m just not ready yet either” he confessed, “We’re going to have a talk about boundaries and stuff today, I think.”

“Always the strategist,” Allison chuckled, kindly, “That’s not a bad idea for any relationship though.” She tilted her head as if thinking about it then she winked at Scott who blushed but nodded all the same. 

“So, he makes you happy?” Scott pressed.

Stiles nodded.

“Good. I thought we were going to have to drag you out to Jungle and make him watch you dance again then lock you in a closet.”

Stiles sputtered “What?”

Scott grinned, leaning back in his chair “Oh yeah, he was dying that night. First, Peter coats you unknowingly in his scent, Lydia pulls out all the stops with the clothes, and then you finally dancing like you do. I thought he was going to have a heart attack when Ali and I sidled up to chat with him.”

“What did you two need to talk to him about?” Stiles asked, trying not to blush.

“You. And his intentions.” Allison told him casually.

“He may be our Alpha, but you’re our Stiles. You’re more important, bro.” Scott made sure he held Stiles’ gaze as he spoke.

Stiles swallowed down the lump in his throat “Thank you guys.”

“No need to thank us,” Lydia told him, eyes glinting, “But you do owe us some details. Like what happened at the dance.”

As he looked around, Stiles found his friends eagerly awaiting his stories and for once he was excited to share. 

“Well, I ended at back at the old house...” He didn’t tell them everything but he definitely satisfied their curiosity without compromising his and Derek’s privacy. 

The morning and afternoon passed in a flurry of gossip, lunch when it came time for that, and some studying in between it all. 

———

Cora and Peter met Derek on the porch as he returned to the house. “Morning, Alpha,”  
Cora singsonged, “Had a good night?”

“It’s a rush isn’t it?” Peter commented then, “Just being near him?”

Derek nodded a smiled tugging at his lips, but he tamped down on it by instinct. He must have frowned because the next question was less lighthearted.

“He didn’t pressure you did he?” Cora asked, a bit bluntly, eyes shining gold. Derek tried to cover his shock at her words. He could feel wetness on his face. “Derek?” She pressed, “I was just kidding earlier,” she got up to go over and hug her brother.

“No, he didn’t pressure me, Cor. He’s, he’s amazing actually,” Derek wiped at his eyes unsure of what had caused him to react that way.

“You sure? Cause I’ll take care of him if he hurts you,” Cora promised him. 

“Yeah,” Derek chuckled, ruffling Cora’s hair, “He told me he won’t have a courtship that doesn’t consider both of our needs.”

“Good. I like Stiles.” After pressing a kiss to her brother’s cheek Cora slipped off inside, probably heading back to sleep given that she was hardly ever up before noon on the weekends.

“You’re happy?” Peter asked him.

“I never thought it could be like this,” Derek told his uncle, “I’m just so afraid it’s all going to disappear.”

“Don’t let that fear rule your life. It’ll ruin things faster than you think. Be honest with him, even if it’s hard.”

“We’re going to discuss the courtship later today,” Derek confessed.

“You miss him already don’t you?” Peter teased his nephew.

Derek nodded, head held high.

“That’s right pup, be proud of him.” He hugged Derek tightly. “I’m here if you ever need to talk, as is Chris. We made lots of mistakes in the beginning. You should at least make new mistakes.”

Derek chuckled and Peter grinned. This was Derek as he remembered him. He sent a brief thank you to whatever deity gifted Stiles to their pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of you that are enjoying this, please, enjoy it while you can, because my writing roots are coasted in angst and I know it's going to crop up again. Enjoy the fluff while it lasts.


	20. Limits and Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Scott talk college.
> 
> Stiles and Derek talk about limits and love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

It was the lightest and happiest morning the pack had experienced in awhile. Around 2pm, Lydia, and Allison headed out to go shopping with Cora and Erica. Scott stuck around for another hour or so, talking college with Stiles.

“I still think I’m looking at State school, just to kick my grades up to make me competitive,” Scott told Stiles who was lying down on a table, tossing a lacrosse ball up in the air and catching it.

“You know you could potentially make the cut off if you buckled down a bit, Scott.”

“I’m still not sure if that’s exactly what I want though.”

Stiles caught the ball again, but didn’t throw it back up.

“Seriously? When did this crisis of faith happen?”

“Like a week ago,” Scott replied, “I’m just not sure if I want to be a vet, maybe a vet tech? Maybe I’ll work with animals in a not-for-profit. Maybe I’ll train guide-dogs.”  
“Okay,” Stiles started throwing the ball up again, “So not so much an earth shattering realization as an evolution of your goals?”

“Yeah, I like that,” Scott told him, smiling, “You still looking at Harvard?”

“When did I tell you that?” Stiles queried. 

“Uh, you didn’t,” Scott rubbed the back of his neck, “I spent a a lot of nights in your room after you left with and without the pack. I found your college binder and flipped through it.”  
“You flipped through it?” Stiles’ voice was light, holding back a chuckle.

“Fine. I read it like once a week.”

“I’m not sure. I still love the idea of Harvard, but…”

“Don’t,” Scott cut him off, “Don’t make this decision based on our family, the pack, or you and Derek. You know your Dad, my Mom, and Derek will tell you the same thing, Stiles.”  
“I know, Scotty. I know. I just don’t know how things are going to unfold next, I’ve got… back up plans.”

“You always have back up plans, Stiles. You have back up plans for back up plans.”

“I like to be in control, Scott,” Stiles told him, “I like to take care of things… and people.”

“I know, bro.”  
————————  
Scott left to meet up with his Mom, Stiles’ dad texted to let him know he’d be taking a shift that night so that they could head to the shooting range together on Sunday. Stiles started to prep some food, taking the time with one of his mom’s recipes. He let himself sink into the relaxing groove of cooking, and hummed as he sliced vegetables and portioned out beef. He tossed everything into a pot and let it simmer, slowly, setting a timer for several hours. 

“You hum when you cook. Did you know that?” a soft voice startled Stiles who jumped, but found himself steadied by a strong pair of arms. Stiles relaxed against Derek, “Thanks for the heart attack, Der.”

“Well, I’ve gotta keep you on your toes, don’t I?” His voice rumbled in his chest, “Your mom used to sing when she cooked too.” Derek pressed a kiss to Stiles’ cheek as the Spark smiled, “Can I help?” 

“No, it just has to cook for a bit.”

“How was your day?”

“Good. I spent it with Lydia, Allison, and Scott,” he told Derek, “We studied and chatted.”

“Anything interesting?” Derek asked, stepping back to lean against the counter.

“Scott and I talked about colleges.”“Harvard, still at the top of the list?”

“Did you guys read all of my binders while I was gone?” Stiles grumbled quietly, a smile on his face. 

“Not all of them,” Derek told him, “And it was mostly Scott, your Dad, and me”

“Well, I guess it’s good you all know my secrets now,” teased Stiles. 

“Somehow I doubt that,” Derek replied, his tone even. Stiles tilted his head, raising an eyebrow, Derek’s lips twitched into a smile. 

“You have questions, then?” Stiles’ voice was quieter.

“How much time do you have?”

Stiles stepped over to Derek, leaning into his mate “I’m pretty sure I told you forever, but I’ll remind you everyday if I have to.”

“I think that’ll be enough time to get my answers then,” Derek ran a finger over Stiles’ cheek, lightly scent marking him, “So, a few hours?” he nodded at the food.

“Time enough to answer some of those questions, Sourwolf.” Stiles tugged Derek’s hand and led the Alpha into the living room. Derek sat down first, but he could see Stiles’ indecision about where to sit, so he gently pulled his Spark down onto the cushion next to him, tangling their hands and legs together. 

“Ask away then,” Stiles murmured, looking at their intertwined hands.

“Stiles, I don’t want to force you into anything.”

“You aren’t Der, you should know that about me by now.”

Derek unlocked his right hand from Stiles’ and trailed his fingers up his mate’s arm to his neck. He stopped just below Stiles’ hair “Want to tell me about this?”

“After mom died,” Stiles whispered “I started getting panic attacks. Having one, it’s hard to describe,”

“Like the walls are closing in, you want to be alone, but don’t, you can’t breathe, right?” Derek murmured, “I had one, only the one after the fire, when I told Laura about Kate. It was hellish.”

Stiles gripped Derek’s other hand tightly, squeezing it reassuringly “Yeah, that’s what they feel like.”

“You still get them?”

“Now and then, less so now. But I used to get them a lot, more than my dad knows actually,” he said, voice cracking, “he used to work a lot after it happened and well, when I had an attack I needed something to ground me. I used to… I used to pull at my hair. The pain helped me focus. It’s why I got the buzzcut. I couldn’t deal with the temptation, not that it helped much.”

“And now?” Derek kept his fingers tracing patterns on Stiles’ neck but careful to not pull at his mate’s hair.

“It’s not as much of a temptation, but aside from ruffling my hair I haven’t really let people touch it much since I grew it out again. I just need to get used to people touching me… it again.”

Derek was quiet, rubbing his mate’s neck with his fingers. “You too, right?” he finally said.

“Hmm?”

“You need to get comfortable with being in your space too. I saw it, before the pack, Stiles. It’s called touch starvation, sweetheart.”

Stiles tensed, then relaxed under Derek’s tender ministrations. He leaned into it. 

“I’ll be careful then,” Derek murmured.

“Der…”

“Limits, for both of us, remember Stiles?”

“Right.”

“And while I’m thinking about it, Stiles, what about that?”

“About what?”

“Your name?”

“Scott says he doesn’t even know your real name. Neither does Melissa.”

“You been asking about me, Sourwolf?”

“Of course, I want to know everything about you.”

“You angling for my name, Derek?” Stiles teased, quietly. 

“Well, I could just call you pet names for the foreseeable future instead.”

“Go ahead.”

“Or I could guess.”

“Again, be my guest.”

“Michael?” 

“Really?”

“Your Dad calls you Mica when the rest of us aren’t around.”“Sharp ears, Der, but no, it’s not Michael.” 

“I’ll figure it out.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Does anyone else know it?”

“Just Dad,” he paused, “And Dean, Sam, and Bobby know at least that it’s like Mom’s — Polish, long, and complicated.”

Derek hummed. “Can I ask you a question (aside from this one)?”

“Of course.”

“If I wanted to give you something, would you take it?”

“That depends on what it is, Sourwolf.”

“Well, it wouldn’t really be coming from me. Peter was the one who dug it up.”

“Your jacket?” asked Stiles, tentatively hopeful, “You’d be okay with that?”

“Well, my wolf would love it if you only wore my clothes, but I think that would put a real damper on your personal expression.”

“I would agree,” Stiles replied, chuckling softly, “Yes, I would love to wear your jacket again, Der.” He untangled their legs so that he could tuck himself under Derek’s arm. 

“Scott said something this morning and I…” he stopped himself.

“Stiles?” Derek could smell curiosity and just a hint of lust, he dropped his voice a little lower, “Baby, what is it?”

“On my birthday…”

“I wanted to push you up against a wall and worship you” Derek told him, nuzzling the top of Stiles’ head as he trailed his hands all over his mate’s clothed torso “It was a sensory overload and I probably looked crazy, but never doubt that I want you.”

Stiles blushed and closed his eyes, turning to the side, tucking his head into Derek’s neck. “There’s something you’re not telling me,” Derek murmured, “Isn’t there?” The Spark just burrowed closer to Derek soaking in the man’s warmth. 

“It might have happened differently when I was caught in my first djinn dream,” Stiles murmured. Derek trailed his fingers down to his mate’s thighs. 

“Really? Do tell, sweetheart?” He bit Stiles’ earlobe, teasingly. 

“Der,” Stiles whined high in his throat. 

“Tell me, please…”

“You picked out my clothes for a night at the club,” Stiles’ voice was breathy as Derek kissed down Stiles’ neck. 

“And you let me do that?”

“Apparently.”

“And then?”

“We… we went out, dancing.”

“You have no idea how much I wanted to dance with you that night. To hold you close to me. To have everyone else know I’m lucky enough to have you.” Stiles looked up and kissed Derek full on. 

“Don’t think you’re getting away with not telling me details” Derek murmured after they separated, both a little breathless “But I want to set some limits before we do.”

Stiles went to pull away, but Derek kept him close, tucked into his side. They lay there comfortably for a few minutes. Derek resumed massaging Stiles’ neck; it calmed them both down. 

“Do you want me to write this down?” Stiles asked to break the silence. 

Derek chuckled, “Maybe later.”

“Why don’t we trade off? You say one, I’ll say one.” 

“Okay.” Derek agreed.

“No sex, not until we’re both ready for it, and not until I’m 18.”

Derek dropped a kiss on Stiles’ forehead, “I want you to feel free to kiss me. Within reason of public decency, of course.”

“I’m not a huge fan of big displays of PDA,” Stiles confessed, “but I’d be happy with kisses. Although… I’d be okay with marking too.”

“Marking?” Derek purred, “Have you been reading, baby?”

“Maybe,” Stiles blushed but smiled. 

“Okay. Anything new, consent is key. We’ll work on new stuff together.”

“Fair. Cuddles, whenever possible.”

“No complaints there. Date nights, non-negotiable. At least once a month if not once a week.”

“Is this part of courtship?”

“You bet it is, Stiles.”

“What else do you have to do?”

“Well, I’ve already spoken to your Dad.”

“And that went well?”

“After he put his gun away because I looked hopeless.”

Stiles chuckled, “So, enough ground rules for now?”

Derek nodded, “I do want to ask though, about the incubus, Stiles.”

Stiles tensed in response to the word “What about it?” His voice was small as he pulled away a bit. 

“It had happened before, hadn’t it?”

Stiles nodded.

“Yeah.”

“How often?”

“A few times while I was with Sam and Dean.”

“How many times is a few?”

“Six. No, seven.”

Derek took in a sharp breath thinking about his mate encountering different versions of himself pressing up against Stiles in dark alleys and clubs. “It wasn’t you, Der.”

“But they were all wearing my face, weren’t they?”

“That’s more my fault than yours.”

“How… how far…”

“How far did they get?” Stiles muttered, unconsciously rubbing over the spot where one incubus had sucked on his chest.

Derek caught onto his movements, running gentle fingers over the spot Stiles was rubbing. He felt the faint outline of a raised scar under his touch. 

“It hurt you,” he growled.

“It’s dead, Der. I killed it. I killed all of them except for the first one, Dean took care of that one.” Stiles’ tone was tired and a little hesitant. “I knew they weren’t you but…” he curled into Derek’s side, “I knew I shouldn’t but sometimes I let them. I wanted you any way I could have you, even if it wasn’t you,” Stiles’ voice was quiet, and it shook “I’m sorry, Der.”

Derek hugged Stiles closer. “I don’t blame you, baby. I really don’t… I saw you afterward don’t forget. You weren’t anywhere close to happy.”

“I hated it.”

“I love you.”

Derek hadn’t meant to say it yet, but he wanted his mate to know it, especially in light of what they were discussing. Stiles peeked out from his mate’s side, eyes wide and almost awed. He surged up to press a soft kiss to Derek’s lips.

“I love you too, Der.”


	21. Questions, Kisses, and Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles asks Derek questions. 
> 
> There are kisses, fantasies, confessions, and a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.
> 
> *NB: There is reference to some dub-con near the end; Stiles talks about his experiences with an incubus.

They ate dinner while Stiles’ peppered his Alpha with questions about random topics he’d come across while researching and Derek’s desire to keep his mate smiling as much as possible led him to answer every question. As Derek went back for seconds he trailed a hand over Stiles’ shoulders before getting his food. Feeling his mate melt into and preen at his touch made Derek very happy.

“I’m not sure I complimented you on dinner yet, but it was amazing,” Derek told Stiles who smiled again and then made to leave the table. Derek stood up first though, lightly pressing Stiles back into his seat. “I’ll clean up,” as Stiles began to open his mouth to protest but swiftly found Derek’s lips on his. “I swear, I’m not forcing you to be quiet,” murmured the wolf as he drew back, “but I’ve just wanted to do that for awhile.”

Stiles looked a bit dumbstruck but made a flourish with his hand as if to say “Have at it then.”

Derek stepped away to wash and dry the dishes, listening as Stiles first sat in his seat then stood up, moving around the kitchen. “Do you have anything you want to ask me?” 

The question surprised Stiles a bit, but Derek who was elbow deep in sudsy water did not appear fazed. Stiles came over to hop up on the counter, intent on looking at Derek if they were going to do this. “Are you sure you want to ask me that?” Stiles tried to keep his tone light and teasing, “I might never let you leave.”

“In that case, I’m doubly sure,” Derek winked at him, causing the teen to blush before going back to his task. Stiles sat, thinking about Derek’s offer, idly tapping fingers on his thigh. He had so many questions. 

“Why’d you never finish your architectural degree?” 

Derek paused at that, then shook his head. “I doubt you’re ever going to stop surprising me, Stiles. Laura... Laura was the one who encouraged me to do it and I just couldn’t after she died.”

Stiles reached out to apologize but Derek simply turned to kiss the palm of the comforting hand. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s easier to talk about them now.” He finished washing his final dish before he began to dry everything. “I’m actually thinking of finishing it up. It was Peter’s idea. An Alpha needs to set an example for their pack, so I’m going to finish school.”

“That’s awesome, Der,” Stiles replied, pitching his voice slightly softer than usual, “I’m really happy for you.”

“I know you are... you don’t have to tread lightly with this, Stiles. I won’t get angry with you if you have deeper questions than that,” the Alpha murmured to his mate in response, nudging his mate playfully with his head before going back to drying dishes. 

“What happens on the full moon?”

Again, a slightly less invasive question than Derek had anticipated but nonetheless one he was prepared for after talking to Peter.

“Well, luckily there’s that holiday on Monday so none of you will miss school. You’ll come with us, like always.” Stiles often spent the full moon with the pack. Derek was confused about why he felt the need to ask about it now as he dried his hands after setting the last dish away.

“Nothing changes?” Stiles’ voice held disbelief. Derek leaned on the counter next to him “Of course not!” Derek was offended he’d even asked, but then decided the best course of action was simply to scent his mate until he realized how silly he was being. 

As Derek pulled away from the counter and idly stepped in front of where he was propped up, Stiles could feel the confusion on his face. Derek just leaned in though, pushing Stiles legs apart to make room for him as he leaned in to... nuzzle Stiles’ neck. Stiles sighed in contentment and exasperation.

“Sure, nothing’s changed,” murmured the Spark, “except your need for me to smell like you and be around you is going increase to epic heights isn’t it?” He said all this as he stroked Derek’s hair, tilting his neck to allow more space for the Alpha. 

It took Derek a minute to process Stiles’ words, then he paused, taking stock of himself. His mate was right. There was his wolf, right below the surface, yapping at him to take their mate, to hide, to nest, to rut. Except this wasn’t new to Derek but he’d always kept it under wraps before. 

“This... those feelings aren’t unusual for me around the full moon and I always managed before,” he nosed at a spot behind Stiles’ ear, a little grumble in his voice. He could feel Stiles tense then, “Stiles?” 

He pulled back, inhaling the cocktail of emotions flowing off of his mate. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” 

“Der, your eyes are flashing,” he put out a hand to reassure his Alpha, “They’re beautiful, Sourwolf; don’t hide from me. But you felt this every full moon since you came back? You’ve had to deal with this,” Stiles traced Derek’s cheek, “all on your own?”

“Of course,” Derek told him, a serious look on his face, “I wanted you, not someone else to fill the void temporarily. Full moons with the pack helped.”

“You had to curb yourself even then. How long has it been since you fully let your wolf out to play, Der? How long have you been repressing your instincts to keep me in the dark?”

“To keep you safe,” Derek huffed.

“I don’t need protection from you,” Stiles told him.

“Really?” Derek leaned forward then, the wolf taking the reins a bit as he pressed Stiles back against the cabinets, fangs... since when had his fangs dropped? Fangs poised on his mate’s neck, the sweet smell of arousal beginning to permeate the room. 

“Really,” Stiles gasped as Derek began to nibble on his mate’s neck, never fully biting, but definitely leaving marks. Derek was so attuned to his task that he didn’t notice Stiles murmuring and suddenly, Derek was no longer next to his mate. He was across the kitchen, the purple glow fading from Stiles’ eyes as Derek tried and failed to break the shimmering gold barrier in front of him.

“Yes, really,” Stiles said, his voice still a little breathy, but determined. 

Derek’s first instinct was to snap and growl, and holy hell, Stiles was right. That was different. He pulled back his wolf, the tings of red around his eyes fading too.

“Okay, maybe not nothing changes.” Derek admitted, putting up his hands in concession, “and I know you can protect yourself, Stiles. I do know that... I just didn’t let myself believe it before, but I do now. I believe you.”

Stiles’ heartbeat skipped when he used the word believe, which was something he wanted to add to his list of questions to be answered. Then he wondered if Stiles should come to the full moon at all if his wolf was already this snappish. He squashed the idea of excluding his mate immediately.

“I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen. Peter told me, but well, it’s a bit different for everyone. I just know that I’ll want you there, if you’ll come.”

“Of course, I’ll be there. But Sourwolf, you can’t be pretending that this” he gestured at the two of them, “doesn’t change anything.”

“But it doesn’t, so I forgot. Listen,” he said just as Stiles opened his mouth to protest, “the only difference for me between this full moon and the last one is that I won’t have to constantly wonder what you taste like, or how it would feel to wake up next to you. I don’t have to just rely on daydreams and real dreams to let me release the wolf out to play. The only thing that has changed, is now I’m officially yours, but my wolf always knew that. My full moons were almost always ruled by that.”

Stiles’ mouth went dry at Derek’s words. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was, and apparently, he’d said that out loud because his Alpha was grinning at him now from behind his barrier. And why was there still a barrier up? His magic took the lead, bringing it down and then, Derek was right there again. 

“I’m the lucky one, baby,” Derek murmured as he pressed light kisses all over Stiles’ jawline, relishing the Spark’s stuttering breathing. Stiles kept his hands at his sides, unsure of what to do with them, when Derek’s sneaked out to lace each of their palms together with their fingers, keeping Stiles in place on the counter. He pulled away, Stiles blushing again. 

“I can’t wait to see how far down that blush goes,” Derek murmured as he pressed in to kiss Stiles. Eventually they parted for air, and Derek could feel Stiles getting antsy, “You know, it occurs to me that while you started a fantasy earlier I haven’t told you one of mine, yet.” The last word was punctuated by a dirty kiss that left Stiles gasping quietly. When Derek pulled away this time, Stiles whined, a seemingly innocuous action, except it was a day to the full moon and that sound, already hot, was a damn siren call to the Alpha now. 

“Stiles,” he gritted out through his teeth, not teeth, fangs. Stiles’ eyes were closed as he tried to centre himself. 

“Alpha,” he replied, in that same tone, Derek’s title a plea on his lips. It took everything in Derek to not pin him back against the cabinets again but he wanted them to be comfortable and safe. 

“Stiles, if you want me to stop tell me.” Stiles shook his head still a little kiss drunk.

“Don’t stop, please, Der,” Stiles whined again, unconsciously, Derek was sure.

“Dammit, Stiles,” Derek went to unlace their hands but Stiles tried to keep them together. He successfully separated their hands and then, scooped up his mate. He pulled Stiles to his chest, “Wrap your legs around me, baby,” he instructed Stiles who obeyed quickly. He had to kiss him for that. 

Derek isn’t sure how they made it upstairs. He remembers snapshots really, of the feeling of Stiles kissing his shoulders, his arms, and his lips whenever possible. He remembers Stiles grinding into him and he relished the feel of leaning into the wall and letting the Spark tease him. 

Eventually, they reached his Spark’s room. “Tell me,” murmured Stiles as he fiddled with the lock on his door, Derek having reluctantly set him down. Impatient, his eyes flashed, locked the door and then Stiles was on him again. Derek huffed out a laugh as his mate used sheer force of will and kisses to press him onto the bed. Stiles settled on top, kissing him as if it was the only thing that mattered.

Derek’s mind was going haywire. He knew it would be, but it felt so good at the moment. He was dimly aware of Stiles’ request and finally, after pausing to catch his breath Derek flipped them, caging his mate. He held one thigh between his mate’s knees, relishing the rocking motions Stiles seemed unable to control at the moment. “Which one do you want to hear, baby?” Stiles didn’t answer except to gasp as Derek leaned into the gyrations of his hips. 

Derek took that moment to pull off his shirt. Stiles let out another whine at that, and Derek’s wolf preened. He took Stiles’ hands and put them on his body, “Go ahead, baby, please. Touch me.”

Stiles didn’t have to be told twice. Soon his lips followed his hands as he started to map Derek’s chest, and as he pushed to sit up, well, Derek let himself return to being underneath his mate. Stiles was systematic, and enthusiastic, exclaiming constantly about how beautiful Derek was, how strong, what a good man. The words washed over Derek like a balm, and he closed his eyes briefly to let himself soak it in. “This is one of them,” he murmured after a few minutes as Stiles pressed open mouthed kisses to his chest. 

Stiles made a noise of inquiry but didn’t stop. 

“One of my fantasies,” Stiles looked up then, “and no, I’m not confusing our fantasies, baby. Sometimes in my dreams...” he gasped as Stiles bit his right nipple, looking down at him from under his lashes, “you look so good, I want to spread you out and just map your body with my tongue and hands,” he gasped quietly as Stiles blew on his wet nipple experimentally, cooing when Derek bucked against him. He moved on to the left nipple, giving it the same treatment. 

“Stiles,” Derek groaned, as his mate continued to switch between his nipples now. He scrabbled at the bed sheets, not wanting to accidentally claw his mate. 

“Tell me more,” Stiles pressed, pausing only briefly, lips red, spit sticky, and pupils blown wide. It was enough to make Derek buck up into him again. Stiles laughed, and then returned to his task with more vigour. 

“Tell me how it felt, the first time you went back to your bed to smell me in it. Tell me that when I was dancing on my birthday you wanted to be there holding my hips, pressing against me, kissing my neck,” Stiles nipped at Derek’s throat when he said that, and he was rewarded with a pleased growl, “Tell me that you want to leave your marks all over me so that people will know I’m yours. Tell me what you want, Alpha,” his last few words were said in a deeper voice, pleasure evident in his scent. Every lick and swirl of his tongue brought him joy. Because in this moment, he was allowed this. He was allowed, encouraged even, to touch Derek. He could please his Alpha. 

He swirled his tongue in Derek’s belly button, cute but not near as satisfying as his nipples. He wanted to make him feel good. Stiles was sure he was saying that out loud because Derek chuckled in between gasps just then. Stiles moved his warm hands then to Derek’s jeans, fingers dancing along the top of them, and a question in his eyes as he shot Derek a look up his body. The Alpha red eyes were back and Stiles cheered internally sure that the bond was telling Derek everything anyway.

Oh, how Derek wanted. Stiles was perched, looking at him with pleading eyes, and fingers skirting the edges of the top of his jeans. Oh, how he wanted to nod and say yes, yes, yes to everything his mate had planned, but this couldn’t go farther. Not yet. For one, Derek had gone commando that day. He shook his head trying to clear it so that he could say something, so that he could say no. 

Suddenly, Stiles lifted off of him and curled into his side instead. Derek was a little confused, but he rolled onto his side anyways to face his mate. Stiles looked wreaked, eyes dark, lips plump, face flushed, “What...?” asked Derek.

“You said, no. So, I stopped,” whispered Stiles, fingers twitching but not touching Derek now. 

Derek could have cried. In fact, he did. “It’s okay, Sourwolf. I love you. I’ll always listen to you here, I promise,” each word soothed Derek as he curled into Stiles. His mate listened to him. He couldn’t believe he’d ever thought Kate was his mate. 

“You’re perfect. You’re perfect to me,” Derek, the heights of arousal in the room started to fade, to dial down as Stiles continued to pet Derek’s hair and his Alpha lay on his still clothed chest, listening to his heartbeat. As if he realized suddenly what they’d been doing and how he’d interrupted it Derek looked up at Stiles. The Spark met his gaze easily and pressed his own satisfaction and love into the bond. “I love you,” Derek told him.

“I love you too, Sourwolf. Now, come on, time for sleep,” Stiles gently maneuvered them so that they could get dressed for bed. As Derek lay in Stiles’ bed, he rubbed his chest idly, “Der!” Stiles had exited the bathroom casually but had started to panic when he moved his mate’s hand to see the bite marks he’d left, “You’re not healing!”

Derek chuckled, causing Stiles to frown. “I wanted to keep them a little longer,” his skin smoothed out while he spoke and Stiles’ panic faded into embarrassment. Derek pulled him into a light kiss then, “Movie?” 

“Sure,” Stiles pulled out his laptop and set it up on the bed, “You pick though.”

Derek nodded his agreement as he landed on The Avengers, and pressed play. Stiles cuddled into his chest and after an hour was lulled to sleep. Carefully, Derek set the laptop aside and out of harms way, then he returned to the bed and settled down allowing himself to drift when the smell of anxiety and fear piqued his interest. He opened his eyes to find Stiles, both pulling and pushing at him, as if wanting him close but afraid of it too. “Please,” the whine that came from Stiles’ throat then was nothing like the one earlier, this one was pained even as Stiles panted and a curl of arousal cut through him, “I know you’re not him, but please, please,” Stiles hips were moving now, bucking in a way that looked painful, jerky in movement, “Anything. Just please, kiss me,” he whined again as Derek realizing that this had to be a nightmare, not a happy dream, tried to wake Stiles up.

“Stiles, Stiles,” he called his mate’s name as Stiles whined again then went taut, and began to scrabble away from Derek, on arm slung across his chest, protecting it. Derek moved with him though, catching the Spark’s hands and pulling them away where they gripped at skin and fabric tightly enough to cause damage. “No, no,” Stiles fought back viciously and only Derek straddling him kept him somewhat pinned to the bed. 

Derek was terrified, but thankfully his wolf rose to the occasion, and a low growl, akin to a roar but meant for one person only, made Stiles’ eyes shoot open. As the red in Derek’s eyes faded, Stiles took stock of everything and knew what had happened. Shame and anger flowed over him.

“Baby,” Derek was being too kind. He was pitying him. Stiles didn’t need pity, “I’m not pitying you.”

“Yeah, tell me something else I won’t believe,” snapped Stiles, who felt the fight leave him as soon as he took out his anger on Derek. He tried to pull his hands away from Derek who held fast, “Hello? Hands?”

“I’ll let go when you agree to give me an explanation,” Derek told him.

“What’s to explain?” blustered Stiles.

“Stiles.” Derek’s voice was firm and the bluster left him too.

“Okay,” he muttered, and Derek let him go. 

Stiles sat up. His shirt was soaked in fear sweat and he could only imagine how it smelt to Derek. He wanted to get a new one and change but he didn’t want to go to the bathroom to change. Stiles was afraid if he went into the bathroom his brain would talk him into a panic attack about what had just happened. He wanted to just stay here, with Derek. 

His Alpha made the decision for him, leaving the bed to pull a worn sleep shirt from a drawer. He brought it back to the bed, placing it between them. “Stiles?” 

“I don’t want to leave to change,” he confessed. Derek’s hands covered his. 

“That’s okay, baby. I could close my eyes? Turn my back?” 

Stiles was ready to nod and thank his mate for understanding when he paused. If they were ever going to progress in their relationship he had to be honest and upfront. Besides, he thought back to his mini rant Derek’s car, the man knew he had scars. 

“It’s, it’s okay.”

“Stiles, are you sure?”

Instead of answering Stiles swiftly pulled off the long sleeve shirt he’d been wearing. His glamour was down. Everything was on display. Every imperfection and mark. Every tattoo, earned or otherwise. 

Stiles sat still, ramrod straight as he waited for Derek’s judgement.  
It took all of the Alpha’s control not to emit his own whine. His mate was gorgeous, lean, strong, and he couldn’t even think about the tattoos for fear of wanting to trace them with his tongue. A wolf, black with red eyes, was curled up on Stiles’ chest at the moment, around a thin, puckered scar. Hesitantly, he touched the scar but aside from an intake of breath Stiles didn’t react. He kept his eyes closed. 

The Derek wolf tattoo blinked up at him, baring its fangs then it moved, down Stiles’ torso to disappear onto the Spark’s back. Derek’s eyes swept over his mate again, taking in the multitude of scars, thin lines, thick ones, everything healed. Some old, others much newer. 

“What happened here?” 

For a moment, he thought Stiles hadn’t heard him, but then he began to speak, voice low, and tired.

“We were on our way to job, we’d stopped at a bar and after a few rounds of pool I tapped out to go back to the room. I was next to Sam and Dean’s, and when I was opening the door I felt,” Stiles shivered, unbidden, “I felt the scratch of stubble on my cheek and I knew. I knew immediately, but I hadn’t spoken to any of you in months, which was my fault, but I just wanted to see you. So, I let it in.”

Shame crawled over Stiles like insects, making him twitch and shake. Derek reached out to touch him but he flinched and closed his eyes again. 

“It knew I was a Spark, somehow. But in the moment, I didn’t care. He, it, they never really let me touch them. It’s about the victim because the incubus needs to draw power from it.”

Stiles rubbed his chest again.

“But I couldn’t take it that night, I wanted to kiss and pretend, so it did but, but it was wrong,” Stiles’ face twisted into a pained look, “It was so wrong, and then suddenly it had me pinned against a wall. It dragged its mouth down and it was messing with my mind, concocting stories, anything that could make it better for it. And it stopped there,” Stiles didn’t need to tell Derek where ‘there’ was, “It bit me, and that’s all it took for me to remember it wasn’t you. I tried to fight it, but it continued to cloud my thoughts and so I was caught. Part of me just wanted it so badly,” Stiles clenched his hands into fists, digging his nails into soft flesh, “So I pleaded like a damn damsel for it to stop, to just kiss me, to let me have it all back,” Stiles felt his nails draw blood, “Dean and Sam came back then, heard the commotion, Dean killed it.”

The end of the story was so abrupt that Derek wondered if it was worth pressing Stiles when the scent of blood, Stiles’ blood, hit his nose. He saw the fists then, for he’d been watching his mate’s face. 

“Stiles, Stiles, stop hurting yourself. Let go, Stiles,” he forced his mate’s palms to open, pricks of blood smearing over them. Stiles was shaking now. 

He felt a little cold and lightheaded. He could barely feel Derek leave and come back to patch up his hands. He felt like he was underwater but slowly his head cleared, reminding of where he was and who he was currently shirtless in front of. He pulled his newly bandaged hands from Derek to pull on the new shirt.

The room was quiet as Derek put the first aid kit away and returned to bed, waiting for Stiles to speak. 

“Did I do something to trigger that nightmare?” Derek asked, voice, slow and measured.

Shock brought Stiles out of his head. “No, no, no, Der, I’m just damaged goods alright?” The Spark tried to chuckle. 

“You’re not,” Derek countered him, “You don’t believe me now, that’s fine. I’ll get you to believe me.”

“I just feel...”

“What do you feel, baby?”

“Dirty. Used, because of it, because part of me wanted it.”

“Stiles, listen to me,” Derek cupped his mate’s chin, “I will never judge you for what happened with those creatures. I might ask about them. I might get angry at them, but I will never be angry at you. I was the one who let you think you were never going to be here,” he nodded at the bed with both of them in it, “so if you insist on blaming yourself you’ll have to blame me too.”

Stiles wanted to protest but what Derek said made sense, no matter what traitorous thoughts his mind was trying to push through. 

“I love you, Stiles Stilinski. Not despite your experiences, but because of them. That includes your scars, your nightmares, and your panic attacks. Just like you love me, all of me, including my horrific romantic track record, my guilt complex and my anger issues. Do you understand?” 

Stiles nodded. 

“Do you think you can get back to sleep?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, then let’s pull up Guardians of the Galaxy,” Derek remarked casually. As they settled in to watch the movie he kept Stiles tucked under his arm and if his wolf tattoo settled at Stiles’ collar who was he to protest.


	22. Scars, Secrets, and a Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fluff, some smut, and Stiles works on his issues with Derek in a healthy manner. 
> 
> *Pre-Full Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

The rest of the night was calm for Derek and Stiles. The next morning, Derek was the first one up, slowly detangling himself from his mate. Sunrise was an hour out, and John was walking around the kitchen. Derek padded downstairs, knocking on the doorframe to not startle the Sheriff. 

“You okay, kid?” John asked as his Alpha ambled into the kitchen toward the coffee pot. 

Derek nodded.

“That was convincing,” John replied, a bit of snark in his tone, “Come on, spill. I’ve got another thirty minutes at least before I need to crash.”

Derek looked at him with confusion.

“Just because you’re dating my son, it doesn’t mean that you can’t talk to me about this… after all, I know him decently well.”

“We’re fine, John.”

“Uh huh, and I’m not the Sheriff of this town.”

“Stiles had a nightmare last night,” Derek admitted, unsure of how much he could say without compromising his mate’s privacy. 

“Djinn? Hunting? Incubus?” John watched Derek as the Alpha twitched when he said the last one. 

“I’ve never seen one, but he wrote about them. They’re rough, but you know those things, those creatures, they aren’t you.”

“I know.”

“But, it feels like it was,” John said what Derek didn’t say, “You know, while you two know each other well you’ve got to grow together now. It’s not easy, but it’s worth it,” John’s eyes took on a bit of a faraway look. 

“That helps, actually.”

“Good.”

They drank their coffee in silence, and then John pushed away from the table, “Alright, I’m taking him out to the range for the afternoon. Want to come by and pick him up for the shindig?” Derek smiled at John’s continually ridiculous names for full moon activities. 

“Sure.” 

“I’ll text you the address, and after dinner tonight I’m assuming I won’t see you two for a bit.”

Derek blushed.

“I enjoy teasing you.”

“That seems to be a family trait,” muttered Derek.

John ruffled Derek’s hair “Get used to it, kid.” 

John paused before he left the kitchen “Also, when you come to get him, don’t be surprised, okay?”

Derek’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion, but John just smirked at him, and with a wink headed off to sleep. Derek sat at the kitchen table, confused, but a little more settled than he had been before he’d spoken with John. He wasn’t sure what John had meant, not to be surprised later that day, but he figured he’d deal with it when it happened. He could already feel his wolf’s excitement about the full moon, but his human side was a bit anxious to return to Stiles, to make sure his mate was okay after the drama they’d had the day before. 

Rinsing out his and John’s coffee cups he probed his mate bond with Stiles. His Spark was just waking up, so he filled a coffee cup, and headed back upstairs, slipping into Stiles’ room just as the man started to get restless. 

“Hey Baby,” Derek, murmured, setting the coffee cup on his side table as he trailed a hand down Stiles’ arm. 

“Hmm?” Stiles looked confused, adorably so, and Derek couldn’t help leaning in to kiss him lightly. Stiles let him, but his brow was still furrowed from sleep “Der?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

Stiles let out a sigh of relief “Wasn’t a dream then? You and me?”

Derek hummed in concern, as he stroked Stiles’ cheek gently “No. What happened, Stiles?”

He shook his head, clearing it “Nothing, just… I think I crashed a bit hard from last night.”

Derek lay down next to him, stroking Stiles’ side. “You okay, now?”

Stiles nodded.

“Happy full moon, Sourwolf.”

“Happy full moon, sweetheart.”

“How’re you feeling?” Stiles asked, nudging Derek with his head.

“Like I’m about to spend my first full moon with my mate.”

Stiles smiled, eyes crinkling “What does that mean?”

“It means I love you.”

“I know,” Stiles murmured, still sleepy. 

“Did you just Han Solo me?” Derek asked.

“Shit, I did.”

“Language, Baby.” Derek admonished him teasingly. 

“What? Only you can make me swear, Sourwolf?”

“I make you swear?”

“Yeah, you drive me up the damn wall.”

Derek chuckled, then prodded Stiles to sit up, and passed him the coffee he’d brought up.

“I take it back. You’re a saint,” Stiles told him as he drank the coffee swiftly in small sips, “So, good for you to provide for me, Alpha.” He batted his eyelashes at Derek, and any other day Derek would have laughed at him, maybe playfully growled, but it was the full moon. His wolf loved the compliment. He pushed forward, taking Stiles’ coffee from him then captured Stiles’ lips in an energetic kiss that sent his mate’s pulse skyrocketing. “I will always provide for you, baby.”

Stiles returned the kiss, a note of desperation in it. He felt something too. A pull to be around Derek, to be next to him… He wanted to be wrapped up in his mate all day. He pulled Derek over top of him, letting the alpha settle and continue to kiss him the way he wanted. “Good Alpha, such a good Alpha,” Stiles murmured as Derek pulled back to let his mate breath. Derek’s eyes caught on the marks he’d left on Stiles’ neck the day before. His wolf celebrated at the visual of his marks on Stiles’ pale skin. A dark shape wandered up into his view, as the Derek wolf tattoo curled up around the curve of his mate’s neck. Derek leaned down to nip at the marks, to let his tongue trace them again. The wolf tattoo’s eyes flashed in agreement. 

“Der,” Stiles whispered softly, tugging lightly on the Alpha hair to bring them back up to eye level with each other, “You’ll have me to yourself tonight, Sourwolf. I promise.” 

“And I don’t right now?” 

“I think we need to talk,” Derek pulled back, a small whine in his voice, “Hush, Sourwolf. Not like that.”

“Last night?” Derek asked, not moving from his place for the time being, his voice quieter. 

“I need to know how you feel, now. In the semi-light of day,” Stiles told him.

“I meant what I said last night, Stiles. I love you – all of you.”

Derek rolled to the side and sat up, tugging Stiles up to sit across from him, passing back the coffee mug.

Stiles fiddled with it, not drinking it. He placed it on his side table, fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Stiles?”

“What about the scars, Der? The tattoos and everything, I can tell you’re okay with them, but I think I owe you some stories about the scars.”

“Whatever you want to tell me, baby. I’ll always listen.”

Stiles tugged at the shirt again. 

“Stiles, you don’t owe me anything you know,” Derek reminded him to fill the silence. 

“What happened to wanting to know everything, Der?” Stiles tried to tease his mate.

“Everything you’ll grant me, Stiles.”

“How do you do that? Make everything sound like you’re lucky to have me?”

Derek’s eyes sharpened. “I am lucky to have you, Stiles,” he squeezed Stiles’ hands with his own, “Where is this coming from, baby?”  
Stiles opened his mouth, but was unable to express his feelings. Derek could feel the tumult of emotion roiling through his mate. 

“Last night really did a number on you, eh?” Derek queried, pressing a kiss to one of Stiles’ palms, around the indentations his mate had cut into his hands the night before. “How often do nightmares do this to you?”

“Not as often as before I left, I promise.”

“You used to deal with it yourself, didn’t you?”

Stiles looked down at their intertwined hands and nodded. 

“I didn’t want to bother Dad, and Scott… I just couldn’t let them in. It still scares me to let you in, Der, and I trust you.”

“It means a lot that you’d admit that to me, Stiles.”

“Thanks,” huffed Stiles, still looking down at their hands. 

“We don’t need to rush this… I know I was a little overenthusiastic. My wolf and I were excited,” Stiles extracted a hand to stop his rambling.

“I love this. I love you. I want this, now. I do. I’m just… scared.”

“I don’t want you to be scared of this, of us, Stiles.”

“I’m not scared of us, I’m afraid of messing this up. It’s what I’ve always wanted, Der. Please believe me.”

“I do, darling. I do believe you.”

Stiles looked up at him, biting his lip, but he nodded. “Okay.”

“Are you going to be okay with tonight?”

“You and your wolf? The pack? Safety? Hell yeah,” murmured Stiles, lips quirking up in a smile. 

“I’ll pick you up from the range later today, alright?”

Stiles nodded. “I should get dressed.” Then he bit his lip, tugging his shirt back over his head, looking Derek in the eye as he emerged from the shirt. 

“Stiles?” Derek kept their eyes locked, although all his wolf wanted was to run over the skin available to him now. 

“I need to start proving my trust, Der.”

“You don’t…”

“I might not owe you anything, Sourwolf, but I owe myself happiness, right?”

“Can I?” Touch? Look? Lick? Derek wasn’t sure what he wanted to ask. 

“Yes,” Stiles breathed out, as he tapped his fingers on Derek’s nose to draw the Alpha’s attention, he pulled a hand over to his heart where Derek saw. 

“It was the first one I got. I’d been gone for three weeks and I missed you all so much.”

Derek traced the triskelion with light fingers. His mate was marked with his pack’s mark. He’d been marked the whole time he was away. He’d carried Derek’s mark with him all that time. 

“I wanted to do it. It hurt, but somehow that helped. It felt real.”  
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“Same here, Der.” Stiles smiled a bit wider then. 

A scar crossed just below the tattoo. “What about this one?”

“A witch.”

“Is she…”

“She’s dead.”

The Derek wolf tattoo popped up again.

“He was the first one to appear, after mom. He kept me safe, Sourwolf.”

“I’m glad. I know you can take care of yourself, but… I’m happy that people have your back.”

“Well, I know you watch mine.”

“Not always for protective purposes.”

“Are you saying that you check me out, Sourwolf?”

“All the time.” His hands trailed back up over Stiles’ skin, goosebumps raising all over his body. He shivered. “You’re gorgeous, Stiles.”

Stiles huffed out a laugh. “Don’t dismiss your Alpha, baby,” Derek growled playfully, then he ran his nails lightly over Stiles’ stomach. The Derek wolf tattoo flashed its eyes at the Alpha and vanished. His nails encountered two thin scars. “What about these?”

“Scott,” Stiles murmured, “When he first got bit.”

“Does he know?”

Stiles shook his head. 

“I wish you didn’t feel like you have to keep secrets from us, Stiles.”

“I’m working on it.”

“I know.”

His fingers trailed up the other side of Stiles’ stomach, running over his mate’s back to touch several jagged scars. Stiles breathed in sharply. 

“And these?”

Stiles paused.

“Promise you won’t freak out?”

“Not a promising start, but I’ll do my best.”

“Umm…”

“Stiles?”

“Please be calm,” Stiles pleaded, softly.

“Stiles, now you’re worrying me.”

“Dad.”

Derek froze, his hand curling over to cover the scars on his mate’s back.

“We’ve sorted it out. It was a long time ago, I swear.”

“Stiles, when?”

“I was eight. He was grieving. I pushed him. It’s our issue that we worked out.”

Derek took in a deep breath, calming himself. 

“You feel safe with him?”

“I am safe with him.”

Derek heard his mate’s heartbeat stay steady. 

“I am safe.”

His fingers slipped down past Stiles’ collar to his left arm and then he intertwined his fingers with his mate’s. 

“I believe you. I trust you.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“I should go shower,” Stiles muttered. 

“Want some help?” Derek, tone soft but playful.

“Maybe tonight.”

Stiles made his way off the bed. “Pick some clothes out for me, Alpha?”

Derek’s wolf purred. “Of course, baby.”

Stiles shut himself in the bathroom, turning on the shower, letting the water heat up. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to picture what accepting Derek’s help would have meant for him. A tingle of heat crawled up his spine. 

In Stiles’ bedroom, Derek’s nose flared. It was already well-attuned to his mate’s arousal. He smirked. His mate knew how to play dirty and distract him.

Stiles stepped into the shower, lathering himself with shower gel, something that would drive his wolf crazy. He was covering his scent, except of course for the arousal he was casually stoking, hands running over his body. Teasing himself, but not edging himself just yet. 

Derek groaned in the bedroom as he leaned against the bathroom door, clothes for Stiles in his hands. 

“Just open the door, Der. You can do this. Then leave. Open the door. Leave the clothes. Then leave.” He repeated the mantra, trying to psyche himself up.

Stiles cautiously probed their mate bond link and moaned low, and deep as Derek’s lust, directed at him, flowed through him. “Der,” he breathed out.

“Stiles, clothes, floor, outside door.” 

The words flashed through the bond as Derek stepped away leaving the clothes folded on the ground, as he slid down the door.   
“Let go, Der.”

“Stiles,” he thumped his head back against the door.

Stiles continued to tease himself as he felt Derek’s lust flare brightly. Derek couldn’t take it. He shoved his own pants down, to stroke himself. He had never been more thankful that these rooms were soundproofed. 

Ten minutes later, Derek left Stiles’ room, having been shooed away by his mate with a kiss and a promise to help him let go again that night. That promise was made through the bathroom door though, because Derek wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep himself from helping Stiles out if the door opened. 

As his mate left, Stiles stopped his own personal teasing, letting himself think about how sweet that night would be if he let himself simmer in lust all day. His mate wouldn’t know what hit him.


	23. Awkward Talks and Walking Lie Detectors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris and Stiles talk.
> 
> John and Stiles talk.
> 
> Derek watches Stiles shoot. They talk and kiss.
> 
> Pre-Full Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

Stiles spent the morning cooking so that the pack would be sure to have enough food for that night. Later on, Chris came by to give him a hand. He also came bearing a package – Derek’s old leather jacket. It made Stiles blush and smile.

The two of them worked in silence for a bit, but Stiles could tell that the elder Argent had something he wanted to say. 

“You doing okay, Chris? Not that I mind the company, but I figured you’d be with Peter today.”

Chris stopped rolling out cookie dough to turn around and look at Stiles, who couldn’t help the small smirk that crept onto his face as he waggled his eyebrows at the hunter. 

“You’re a little shit, Stiles. Anyone ever tell you that?” Chris replied, rolling his eyes as the Spark laughed. 

“Constantly,” Stiles quipped back. “But seriously, what’s up?”

“Being with your mate on a full moon is an… encompassing experience… it’s overwhelming. Just being near them, and I just wanted to make sure you two had discussed some boundaries before tonight.” Chris’ tone was serious, and it made Stiles feel protected; it was always nice to know that his pack had his back. 

Stiles nodded, unable to meet Chris’ eyes, because discussing his and Derek’s private life was not something he’d ever anticipated he’d be doing in a kitchen with Chris Argent. “He knows I don’t want the bite. And… I’m not eighteen yet, especially with his history… we’ll be safe.” Stiles blushed. 

“That’s good,” Chris replied after a beat of silence, “Cool, cool, cool. Was that as awkward for you as it was for me?”

Stiles snorted “Totally.”

“Great,” Chris replied, running a hand through his hair “I just wasn’t sure how open you and your dad were about this and well, I’ve been where you have… with a Hale. It’s a whirlwind, kid” Chris’ eyes went soft, “and the whole mates thing complicates it a bit, but even so, it’s worth it.”

“How are you here right now?” Stiles asked, genuinely curious, “All I wanted this morning was to stay near, Derek.” He blushed again but chose to meet Chris’ gaze this time around. 

“I wouldn’t say it dulls, but once your relationship is more stabilized, once the wolf calms down a bit, full moons are just like every other day,” he paused, then winked at Stiles, “but then again, every day is a hot one.”

“Dude! TMI” Stiles exclaimed, rolling his eyes and turning to pull a tray of cookies from the oven while Chris chuckled at him. 

“Do I even want to know?” John walked into the kitchen to see Stiles cringing at whatever Chris had said while the hunter laughed intensely. 

“No, no you do not.” Stiles told him firmly.   
“Also, seriously, Chris… don’t forget that I’m a confidante for both Ally and Scott. No more traumatizing me or you’ll hear things you never wanted to know.”

Stiles’ threat sobered Chris up, but it definitely caused John to chuckle.

Chris washed his hands, then got back to helping Stiles with the rest of the food while John poured himself another cup of coffee. 

“I can bring this over to the house later; I know you two have plans,” Chris told Stiles as John got up to rinse out his mug, “I’ll rope Boyd, Isaac, and Scott into it too,” he continued surveying the food they’d made. 

“Where are the girls?”

“A movie, in the next county,” Stiles replied, “Something about a Fifty Shades marathon showing at one of those fancy VIP theatres.”

“Seriously?” John and Chris asked in unison. 

Stiles nodded. “Ally wants to write a critique for a movie blog she likes and unsurprisingly, Cora was totally down for a girl’s day that involves junk food and no shopping. Lydia wants to ogle Jamie Dornan, which is fair. Erica wants to make explicit comments about how non-kinky the whole franchise is.” He paused, “I think Lydia reserved the whole theatre, just so there won’t be any incidents.” 

“Huh…” John responded, “You know what… nope, nevermind.”

“Dad?”

John sighed and looked at his son “You have a type. Dangerous, deceptively so, and smart. Lydia, now Derek.”

Chris snorted. “To be fair, John. He definitely gets that from you. Claudia fit that description to a T.”

Stiles’ face morphed from confused to amused to a bit embarrassed as his dad talked, but Chris’ comment made him laugh again. John nodded in agreement “Fair play, Argent.” The Sheriff fixed Chris with an amused look “Where’s your mate?”

“Out, with Jackson and Derek.”

“I’m not gonna ask why,” John sighed “You ready to go, kid?”

Stiles nodded and went grab his stuff, chuckling to himself about his dad and Chris’ words. Stiles and John settled into the cruiser and set off for the range. John turned on the radio, classic rock a quiet lull in the background as he drove. Despite what he’d promised almost a year ago John and Stiles hadn’t been to the range together since he’d taught Stiles to shoot when he was around nine. It had been the only time they’d really spent together while Stiles was nine.

“We haven’t been out here in awhile,” John said, almost like he was talking to himself.

“Life happens,” Stiles replied, his tone easy, but not flippant, “It’s okay, Dad.”

“But it’s not, kiddo,” he hushes the protests Stiles already has on the tip of his tongue, “Just let me say this, okay?”

“Okay.”

“If I could have one wish it wouldn’t be to have your mom back. I love her; part of me will love her forever, but if I could go back and do things again I would want you to have your childhood back. I will always regret you not having that, because of me,” Stiles started to speak, but then stopped, letting his dad continue “But I can’t do that, and you’re growing up. So, I want to do whatever I can to still support you; I want to spend as much time with you now as we can. So, no, Mica, it’s not okay, but it will be.”

He paused, the music sounding loud in the silent car.  
“I’m done,” John murmured. 

“One day you’ll stop this, Pops” Stiles replied, tone serious, “Not the being with me, but you apologizing for struggling in life. Yeah, our lives were tough. They weren’t idyllic, but they are our lives, for better or for worse. If I could go back, I’m not sure I would change anything, because we wouldn’t be here. Not like we are now.” Stiles paused, then continued, “I’m not saying we shouldn’t talk about this stuff, because we should, but you don’t have to apologize to me, ever.”

“I won’t take issue with any of that, at the moment, except for that last bit, Mica,” John pulled into a parking space at the range, and turned to look at his son, “You deserve apologies, so please, accept them or at least just hear them out.”

Stiles sighed, then nodded. 

John unbuckled his seatbelt “Now, I’m eager to see what you picked up while you were gone. Let’s go.”

“You’re on, Dad” Stiles told him as they exited the car. 

TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW 

John couldn’t believe. For two hour he and Stiles had shot at the empty range, until he’d put down his gun to step back and watch his kid. Stiles had always handled a gun with extreme care; it was one of the things John had managed to teach him. But he’d never seen Stiles like this. The gun was like an extension of his son; it was mesmerizing. 

He thought, not for the first time, that his son could have so easily turned out differently. He could have become cold, distant, and angry. Instead, he’d chosen to learn how to better protect himself and those he loved, at all costs. 

Claudia used to accompany him to the range when they first moved to Beacon Hills, but he’d never been able to convince her to shoot with him. Now that he knew who she had been it made sense. She would have easily outshot him. Stiles reached the end of another clip and rolled his shoulders back. He loaded another clip naturally. 

John heard the rumble of the Camaro’s engine as his Alpha pulled up to the range and smiled a bit slyly. While he’d never been able to convince Claudia to shoot with him, she’d always been rather happy to watch him shoot. She’d confided to him that there was something insanely attractive about it, which now that John thought about it probably meant that his wife’s type had also been dangerous – dangerous, efficient, yet kind. 

He watched Derek enter, noticing the tension in the man’s shoulders that Peter told him stemmed from the full moon prompting a desire to shift. Still, Derek’s smile was relaxed and open. He came over to John who greeted him with a smile but waved away any words Derek was about to speak.

“You’re not here to see me, Derek. I’ll see you two at some point, I expect.” John winked at his now blushing Alpha as he packed up and went over to say goodbye to Stiles. His son paused, murmuring goodbye to his Dad too, but Derek noticed that John didn’t mention his presence, and Stiles, he was too focused at the moment. He watched his mate load his gun, swiftly and methodically, the leather jacket Stiles wore, creaking a bit as the Spark moved. 

It was his jacket. Derek tasted the air, the faint scent of Chris and Peter lingering on the leather. Damn, his uncle knew how to push his buttons. He leaned back against the wall, watching his mate shoot. Stiles was good, great even. He knew so little about weapon usage, but he knew what skill looked like when he saw it. Stiles looked good too, that definitely didn’t hurt. 

Derek got it now, what John had meant when he’d told him not to be surprised. 

Surprised wasn’t the word Derek would use to describe his current state of mind. 

TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW

Stiles knew that Derek would be picking him up, but his mate hadn’t given him a time. After another half an hour, he took off his ear and eye protection, laying down his gun and rolling his shoulders. He tugged the collar of the jacket back up to rub his cheek against the worn leather, breathing in what he could swear was Derek’s scent. He missed his mate already, but the jacket made it feel like he was constantly being hugged by Derek. 

He wondered idly what it would be like to wear the jacket without a shirt on, to feel the leather swish over his bare skin. Stiles drew in a deep breath trying to steady himself. 

Derek watched Stiles stop shooting. His eyes tracked every single movement that his mate made. He felt a shiver run through him as Stiles sought comfort from his jacket. His wolf yipped inside himself, celebrating how his mate found happiness in his scent. He couldn’t stop himself from walking forward and sliding his hands around Stiles’ waist, tugging his mate flush to his chest. “Hello Baby,” Derek murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of Stiles’ head. 

“Alpha,” Stiles closed his eyes, and leaned back against Derek, “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to see how competent you are. You’re sexy as hell, Stiles,” Derek nuzzled Stiles’ neck. 

Stiles huffed out a laugh that was cut short by Derek’s hands lowering onto his hips and tightening a bit. “Let’s go, babe,” Stiles tugged himself gently from his Alpha’s grip, efficiently returning his protective gear and packing up his guns, which he had organized in advance to store at the range until the next weekend. 

Derek waited by his car, unsure if he’d be able to keep his hands off of his mate while he got things in order. When Stiles appeared at the door of the range, he jogged over to the Alpha who pulled him into his arms, lifting up the Spark. Stiles giggled as he wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist, tucking his face into the crook of his Alpha’s neck. “Do you remember what I told you earlier today?” Derek’s voice was a rumble that made Stiles grin. 

“What specifically, Alpha?”

“About you,” Derek murmured, casually walking them around the car until he was at the passenger door, and he leaned Stiles against the car as his mate slid down, to stand a bit unsteadily. Derek pulled open the door, eyebrows indicating that Stiles should get in. 

“You’re not going to give me anymore context?”

“Get in, baby, please.”

“Fine.” Stiles slid into the car, and pulled the door closed. Derek made his way over to the driver’s side and buckled in, pulling out from the range parking lot. 

“So…” Stiles started to speak.

“Don’t dismiss my words, Stiles.”

Stiles stopped abruptly, a bit of confusion overtaking his bright and content scent. 

“I told you that you’re sexy and I mean it. When I tell you you’re gorgeous, I mean it. I mean what I say to you.”

Stiles was embarrassed, his confusion curdling into a bit of insecurity muddled with contentment. 

“I don’t doubt you, Der.”

“But you don’t believe me.” 

Derek pulled the car off the road before they could get to the main track to the Hale house. 

“I just, I’m just not used to it,” Stiles replied, “I do trust you.”

Derek knew he wasn’t lying, but he wanted to extract something further from his mate. He unbuckled Stiles’ seat belt and then his own. “Come here?” It was a question, meant to give his mate an out.

“I don’t want an out, Der” Stiles told him, like he could read Derek’s mind, and he moved to straddle his mate, tucking himself close to Derek again, “I want you. I just… sometimes I can’t believe that you want me.” His last few words were whispered so quietly that Derek would never have heard them if he hadn’t been a werewolf. 

Derek let a comforting rumble sound in his throat, comforting Stiles. 

“I don’t know who made you think that, but if they’re still alive in this town I…”

“Der… it’s not that”

“Lie.”

“Okay, fine it was,” Derek grumbled, so Stiles corrected himself “It is some of that, but I’m not blind either.”

“I wish you could see you the way I see you.” Derek then sat up a bit straighter, an idea coming to him. He tapped into their bond and let his thoughts about Stiles filter through. Stiles gasped as affection poured through their bond and feelings of happiness attached to images of himself streamed through his mind. 

“I love you, Stiles.” Derek pressed a kiss to Stiles’ neck, “I will remind you of that as often as possible. Amongst other things of course, like how beautiful you are and how brave you are.” 

Stiles took a moment to catch up to his mate’s words “I love you too, Der.” He pulled back from cuddling Derek to look at his mate’s face “I’m working on it, I swear.”

“I know, baby, because you’re amazing like that.”

Stiles blushed at the compliment, but he didn’t hide from it. 

“So, I could help seeing in those images… you liked seeing me shoot, Sourwolf?”

Derek rumbled in agreement, leaning back, sliding his hands up over Stiles’ thighs. “It was one of the most attractive things I’ve ever seen you do, baby.”

Stiles sank down, bringing their chests flush. “Someday you should see me with my sniper rifle,” Stiles told him, voice smooth and just a touch lower than usual “I need to lie down in to use it properly and you could be right behind me. Draped over me,” Stiles murmured. 

Derek’s wolf was interested in that, but he needed to stay in the moment. 

“God, baby, why do you do this to me?”

“Whatever do you mean, Alpha?”

Derek just kissed Stiles in response. Their kiss was intense, loving yet growing dirtier with each moment. Finally, Derek pulled back to let Stiles breathe and the Spark gasped for breath. 

“That, baby. That’s what I mean.” He leaned in to kiss Stiles again. “We need to go meet the pack, soon.”

Stiles whined, high in his throat. Derek’s eyes flared red at the noise. “Baby, I need you to go back to your seat and buckle up before I decide to just keep you here with me all night.” Stiles clutched at Derek’s shirt then let it go, eyes clearing a bit, and after a moment of hesitation, he pulled back. 

“Okay, okay, Der.”

They drove to the Hale House in a tense silence that crackled with energy, but Derek and Stiles did keep their hands intertwined as made their way there. “Ready for our first full moon?” Derek asked, as he parked in front of the house, squeezing Stiles’ hand. 

“I was born ready, Sourwolf.”

“Technically, I guess you were, my mate.”

Stiles and Derek stared at each other lovingly for a moment, affection for each other overtaking them. 

Then the front door slammed, and Erica appeared calling out to them “Come on, lovebirds! We want to go for a run!”


	24. Come find me under the light of the moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John finally decides to think about approaching Melissa, because they're obviously made for each other. 
> 
> Derek has flashbacks, but he and Stiles still have a memorable first full moon.
> 
> I always slip a bit of angst in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

The Full Moon was always an experience, but with the lack of ignorance between Derek and Stiles about their mate status there was more energy infused in the pack bonds and less stress. They all ate together. Scott helped Stiles keep everyone’s plates and cups full. The wolves were even more tactile than usual, and it entertained Allison to no end that Peter wouldn’t let her father go farther than five feet away from him. 

Cora and Isaac were the most chill couple and spent most of the evening talking to Melissa and the Sheriff. Derek was at the head of the table and watched over his pack, surveying them while happiness took hold in his chest. As the evening wore on and the moon rose the wolves became restless, and he eventually gave in to it. But first, his pack rose to help the humans clean up, putting their energy to use. 

Stiles shook his head, smiling at them as he went to go grab his jacket, slipping outside with Lydia. They knew that no matter how far they walked their wolves would find them so it didn’t matter if they set off now. “Have fun! Be safe!” Melissa called out after them, causing Stiles to blush as Lydia giggled at him. 

John came up beside Melissa, watching his son walk away into the moonlit night. 

“I feel like I should be anxious,” John confessed. 

“But you’re not?” 

John shook his head. 

“I think that’s good” Melissa told him, then she stretched “What are your plans for tonight?”

“Well, I’m staying at the cottage – you want to come over?”

“I’d love to.” Melissa smiled at him, then left to get her coat. 

John found himself watching her leave and thought about what he’d told Stiles earlier that day. He would continue to love Claudia; she would always occupy a corner of his heart, but maybe, just maybe he could find the strength inside himself to try for something new. 

TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW

“So, I was curious about something…” Lydia trailed off, looking at Stiles out of the corner of her eyes.

“What’s got you using your big, beautiful brain, Lyds?” he queried, tossing her a smile. 

“Is Derek courting you?”

“Why were you wondering that?” Stiles asked in place of answering her. 

“Stiles, is he?”

The teen blushed but nodded his head, “Why do you want to know?”

“I just want to make sure he’s treating you well.”

“Lydia…”

“What? I’m not allowed to worry about my friends?”

“Of course, but it’s Derek, Lydia. He’s our Alpha. He makes me happy. Why would you be worried about him?”

“I didn’t say I was worried. I just stated that I should be allowed to worry if I see fit,” Lydia tossed back, then she reached out a hand to cup Stile’s cheek “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to know that he’s not taking you for granted.”

“He’s not, Lyds. He’d never do that.”

A howl cut through the air, making both friends smile. “We should separate, no offense, but your mate’s possessive on a good day,” Lydia commented, shooing Stiles away into the forest. The Spark laughed, but set off deeper into the preserve, running lightly through the trees, tuning into the pack, feeling them running together towards the trees. None of them were at full-shift status, not yet, but Stiles had been doing some reading in secret and wanted to get Lydia to help him with getting the pack to that point. 

But tonight, tonight was about the chase. It was about joy. Love. Family. Everything Stiles had been missing for far too long. He felt rather than heard the individual wolves of the pack split off, either in pairs like Isaac and Cora or Erica and Boyd, while the other wolves set off in search of their humans. 

Allison had set a fake trail for Scott earlier that day unbeknownst to the teen, and Stiles knew the huntress would be having fun watching her boyfriend run in circles before she finally revealed herself. 

The trees blurred past him as he ran happily through the trees, set on his destination, but he could hear in his heartbeat Derek’s pace as he followed his mate’s trail. Well, if his Alpha wanted a chase that’s what he would give him. 

TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW

Derek loved the feel of the forest when his senses were this heightened and having his pack at his back made him feel stronger and happier than he had in moons. As his pack split, chasing their own loves he set off to find his. His mate. This would be his first full moon with his mate. That realization caused a ripple of excitement to flow through him and he felt his eyes burn red. He could feel Stiles through their bond and the Spark was running; well, if that’s what his mate wanted he had no problem giving chase. Putting on a burst of speed Derek ran through the preserve after the sweet scent of Stiles. 

TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW—TW

Derek broke through the tree line to find himself at one edge of the preserve. Stiles was lying on top of a blanket that Derek could have sworn was draped over his armchair that morning. His mate was relaxed, eyes half closed as he breathed almost meditatively. The Alpha decided to play along, quieting his already muffled steps and slinking over to the edge of the blanket. The moment Stiles’ eyes flickered, he slid up his mate’s lean body, keeping himself just slightly raised as he looked down into the honey brown of Stiles’ eyes. 

“What’ve you caught, Alpha?” Stiles’ voice was a bit breathy already as his mate’s red eyes met his. 

“You,” Derek rumbled out, the word muffled around his fangs.

“Of course, because I’m yours.” Stiles pushed up to meet Derek’s lips and they kissed, softly and sweetly. His Alpha was being so careful with him and while Stiles loved that about Derek he knew the Full Moon was not exactly the best time for soft and sweet. “Aren’t I, Alpha? Aren’t I yours?”

Derek growled at his mate’s challenge. He growled again as Stiles pulled back, laying down again, and tilted his neck. The expanse of pale skin barely marked by him irked Derek’s wolf. “Come on, Der,” Stiles murmured, his own eyes shining purple at the edges, “I trust you.” Derek wanted to, and his wolf was pressing him to do it, to mark up his mate so that everyone would know. But he held back, just barely. He hadn’t let his wolf out, hadn’t let it take over since the first time he’d been with Kate. She’d hated it; she’d humiliated him. It had scarred him emotionally, and as much as he knew Stiles wasn’t anything like Kate, he was scared. He was frozen, afraid, and all of a sudden he didn’t know what to do. 

Stiles prodded their bond mentally, trying to sort out what had made his mate freeze, despite his earlier enthusiasm. All he could get were flashes of fear, long, brown hair, jeering, and then he pulled back, knowing without a doubt that he’d been privy to snapshots of Derek and Kate. Stiles didn’t want that to be the legacy of their first full moon, so he took advantage of his Alpha’s malleability and surged up, rolling the wolf over onto his back on the blanket. Derek’s own scent overwhelmed the Alpha’s nose, and he knew that the blanket was indeed his. Stiles had taken it so that it would smell like them. His wolf whined, fear still causing him to pace and wage war within his mind. But suddenly, Stiles was there, flush to his chest, just laying there keeping their skin in contact. A rumble came from Stiles’ throat as he tried to emulate a purr to soothe and calm his mate. 

Derek’s eyes had stopped shining red, his fangs had retreated, but Stiles was still careful when he pressed his lips to his mate’s. “I love you, Der.” Stiles kept murmuring those words as he littered kisses over Derek’s face and then the Alpha’s collarbone and shoulders. Derek’s mind was slowly coming out of its fear induced fog, letting him come back to the moment, taking note of how soft and sweet his mate was being. He rumbled a purr from his chest, thanking Stiles as the Spark paused in his comforting. “Stiles,” Derek brought a hand up to cup his mate’s cheek, “I’m s…”

“Don’t apologize,” Stiles hushed him “There’s nothing to forgive, Alpha.”

Derek could hear the truth in his words. 

“I still want to make it up to you,” Derek murmured, trying to draw his Spark closer. 

“Der, don’t. You have nothing to prove to me,” Stiles replied, voice soft, pulling away from Derek slightly. The Alpha’s hand shot out to grasp both of Stiles’ wrists, keeping the teen from moving any farther. “Der?”

“Do you want me to let go?” Derek asked instead of responding to his mate’s confusion; he felt himself coming back online and back into the moment – remembering that this was the full moon and he was with his mate. His mate would never hurt him. Never. 

Stiles didn’t have a response. He was so confused, until he felt Derek’s emotions flow through their bond. “Are you sure?” Stiles’ words were just above a whisper.

Derek nodded “Help me make better memories, Stiles,” his hand tightening minutely around his mate’s wrists, “Please.”

Stiles let a grin spread across his face as he nodded. Derek smiled in return, and then suddenly, Stiles found himself back on the ground, his wrists held above his head by his mate, and yet the trust he felt for the wolf let him find pleasure in the act, not fear. 

Derek kissed him then, just a hint of the wolf in the way he pressed against Stiles, in the way the Spark felt fangs just miss his lips and his tongue. It was the type of kiss that left him wanting more. He tried to press up as Derek went to draw back, but a firm hand laid itself on his chest, keeping him down. 

“Stay.”

“You really think that’s going to work?”

Derek’s eyes flashed red. 

Stiles’ flashed purple in response. 

Derek growled.

And Stiles pressed up against the hand keeping him restrained. 

Derek growled again. 

When Stiles went to try and unseat his Alpha he found himself unable to think clearly as Derek used his mate’s attempt to move him to readjust their position. Stiles moved from the blanket to find himself caged inside Derek’s arms, straddling the Alpha’s lap. One arm wrapped around his waist, and another was attached to a wandering hand that was fluttering over Stiles’ stomach and back, brushing the top of his boxers and then skittering elsewhere. Derek’s teeth latched delicately onto Stiles’ neck, marking him thoroughly. 

“Remember this?” Derek asked, seemingly less affected by his actions than Stiles, except his blazing red eyes gave away the intensity of his interest in their current activities, “Remember the night you first let me cover you in my scent? Remember how quickly you came for me, baby?” The Alpha continued murmuring into Stiles’ ear, pushing his desire into their bond. Stiles felt like he was drowning in waves of desire and he never wanted it to end. If he’d been more coherent Stiles definitely would have made a quip about how that had happened just over two days ago so it'd be concerning if he’d forgotten it, but at the moment he couldn’t care less. 

“Could you do that again for me, baby? Let me make a mess of you?” Derek bit Stiles’ neck slightly harder after he asked his questions, eliciting a gasp from the Spark. “Would you do that for me?”

“Der…”

“What, baby? What do you want?” 

Stiles shifted on the Alpha’s lap, trying to find the perfect position to get the friction he needed, but Derek’s hands moved to his thighs, firmly keeping his mate in place. 

“What do you want, Stiles?” Derek asked, eyes ringed with red, as he nuzzled his mate’s face, taking a break from actively teasing the Spark. 

“Anything.”

“Be more specific sweetheart, you have more words at your disposal.” Derek’s wolf enjoyed this little game with his mate. Seeing Stiles submit to anything, let alone be rendered monosyllabic was unusual and made his wolf preen with delight. 

“Please, Der. Wanna smell like you,” and that plea appealed to Derek’s heart as well as his wolf. 

“How… how far, baby?”

“Trust you,” murmured Stiles, but the hands on his thighs tightened their grip, bringing him back a bit.

“Stiles…”

The Spark blushed, but realized that his mate was serious about limits. “Leave my shirt and boxers on, please” murmured Stiles. 

Derek kissed him in response for his honesty about his limits. “Of course, baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so: Stiles wants to leave his shirt on because he's still not wholly comfortable with his scars despite everything leading up to this point. He has less scarring on his legs so he'd more comfortable having those off.


	25. Smells like Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some fluff the morning after the full moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

If you asked Stiles the next morning how they’d gotten back to the Hale House he wouldn’t have an answer for you. All he could remember were Derek’s gentle, teasing nips to his neck and his Alpha’s red eyes darting in and out of his field of vision. The next morning, Stiles woke up slowly, snuggling closer to the wall of warmth that was Derek. “You awake, baby?”

“Should I not be?” Stiles murmured, his voice a bit hoarse, a blush tinging his cheeks when he remembered why his voice was hoarse. 

“I thought you’d sleep until 9 at least,” Derek rumbled, nuzzling the top of Stiles’ head. 

“You’re up,” Stiles replied, still sleepy. 

“I didn’t want to miss watching you wake up.”

Stiles huffed into Derek’s chest “Liar,” he rumbled back, placing a quick kiss on his mate’s chest. 

“Not lying, baby.”

“Not telling the whole truth, either.” Stiles was still relaxed though, he could feel that whatever Derek wasn’t saying wasn’t a bad thing. Stiles pulled the cover closer, wanting to bask in this moment for as long as possible. He noticed how Derek moved closer too and an idea occurred to Stiles. “It’s the scent isn’t it?”

“Hmm?”

“We’ve only ever been in the cottage or my room, but last night was the first time since we got together that I’ve been back in here. You wanted to make sure my scent sunk in.”

It was Derek’s turn to blush and Stiles grinned into his mate’s chest, pressing his cheek against the warmth of the blush. 

“I’m right, aren’t I, Alpha?”

It wasn’t the full moon anymore, but Stiles always did enjoy teasing his Alpha. Derek dropped a kiss onto Stiles’ head “Yes, baby, you’re right.”

“I could bring some clothes over to help with that…” Stiles trailed off, rolling onto his side to look at Derek, except he wouldn’t meet his Alpha’s eyes. 

“Stiles, I would love to have some of your stuff here. Especially, if it’d make you more comfortable.”

Stiles relaxed, meeting Derek’s eyes finally, and smiled. 

“So… are we going to talk about last night?”

“What about it?” Stiles asked, curiosity in his eyes.

“Well,” Derek reached out to trace over the bites he’d left on Stiles’ collarbone and watched as Stiles closed his eyes, leaning into the touch, “You’re feeling okay, right?”

Stiles nodded.

“I didn’t hurt you?”

“Nothing I didn’t enthusiastically ask for, Alpha,” Stiles told him, opening his eyes to fix his mate with a serious gaze. He pushed up against Derek’s tentative fingers, forcing some pressure onto one of the bites and biting his lip at the feeling it elicited. 

“Stiles…”

“Listen to my heartbeat, Alpha. I dare you to contradict me.”

“Okay.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you okay, I didn’t trigger anything else…?”

“No, baby. You helped me make better memories, just like you promised.” Derek pressed a kiss to one of the marks then, smiling as he felt Stiles’ happiness radiate through their bond. He could also smell it and Stiles’ happiness smelt like sunshine to Derek. Nothing else mattered to him, if only he could keep Stiles smelling like that forever.

“Do we have anywhere to be?” Stiles asked, looking at Derek through his half-closed eyes. 

“Nope” Derek popped the ‘p’ in his response “I’ve still got you all to myself for a little while longer.”

Stiles kissed him in reply and the smell of sunshine and cinnamon increased exponentially in the room. Derek couldn’t help grinning back.


	26. The Start of Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have some Sheriff/Melissa fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf. 
> 
> Maybe I don't thrive on angst as much anymore? I'm still definitely procrastinating though.

John was up early, pacing in his kitchen while he tried to not panic about what had happened last night. He thinks now he could empathize with his son and his nerves around Derek. Not that he had never been nervous around Claudia, but he’d thought after they’d gotten married he’d never have to deal with this again. This anxiety and the butterflies. Dammit, yes, he had butterflies in his stomach again.

TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW

Melissa woke up in her room in Claudia’s cottage, smiling. It was early, and she wasn’t entirely sure why she was up yet until she registered something, no someone else, in her room. 

“Don’t panic, Mel.”

“Claud?”

“You’re dreaming, kind of…”

“Oh,” Melissa replied, sitting up in her bed, twisting a lock of dark hair around her fingers as she looked out into the room, a small arc of light over her late friend’s head. 

“It’s that place between being awake and being asleep,” Claudia told Melissa, the form of her friend coming over to settle on the end of Mel’s bed. 

“You know, about two years ago this would have freaked me out a lot more than it does now. So, is there a reason you’re here, right now?”

“You’re going to make me wheedle it out of you, Mel?”

Mel looked away, blushing “Did you mean it? What you said at the Nemeton last year?”

“About you and Jay? Of course.”

“So, this visit is to what…?”

“To make sure you give yourselves this chance at happiness.”

“You really don’t care?”

The young Claudia, the one Mel remembered from her first days in Beacon Hills, came to settle beside her friend, leaning her head on Melissa’s shoulder. “Of course, I care. I care about all of you, Jay, Stiles, you, and Scott. The pack, of course I care. But, do I mind? No. I want you to be happy.”

“How would you tell the kids?” Melissa asked, quietly.

“I think you should make them figure it out.”

“You’re still a shit disturber, Stilinski.”

“Always have been, always will be,” Claudia replied, smiling, then she nudged Mel with her head “Just be happy, for all of us.”

“I miss you,” Melissa murmured.

“I miss you too, Mel.”

“You really don’t mind?” Melissa pressed, her tone lighthearted, but a tinge anxious.  
“Not in the slightest, Mel,” she told her friend, voice serious, but then her tone took on a teasing lilt, “I hope it was a good kiss,” and then Melissa jolted awake. 

“Dammit, Claud,” she huffed as she chuckled into the dark room, “But thanks.”

TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW

Stiles eventually convinced Derek to go downstairs so that they could start breakfast together. It didn’t take long for the rest of the pack to emerge as the smell of pancakes started to permeate the house. 

“I texted Mom,” Scott commented as he bounded into the kitchen, Allison on his heels, “She stayed over at the cottage last night” he aimed this half of his message at Stiles whose eyes lit up.

“Do you think…?”

Scott shrugged.

“Operation Parent Trap is still a go then.”

“I’m sorry, Operation Parent Trap?” Derek asked, sipping a mug full of coffee as he leaned on the kitchen counter next to his mate, idly admiring the marks just peeking out from Stiles’ shirt.

“Ever since we were kids, we’ve been trying to get our parents together,” Scott told the Alpha, grabbing his own cup of coffee while Allison went for a glass of orange juice.

“Aww, I can see that,” Allison interjected, “They’d be cute.”

“Yeah, and we’ve been playing the long game for awhile,” Stiles told her, pushing a small stack of banana pancakes toward her, “But if anything did happen last night, I can guarantee you my Dad will be freaking out.”

“Heads up,” Scott murmured as he heard the Sheriff approach the front door of the house.

“Daddio!” Stiles called out, a grin on his face as he winked at Scott.

John smiled. His kid was happy. He was safe. And suddenly, Stiles was in front of him, a whirlwind of energy, of magic, and he was grinning at Mel too, much like he used to smile at his mother. He and Melissa hadn’t talked yet, but as Scott came bounding out in the hallway too, ruffling Stiles’ hair, and teasing him like they were brothers, John knew he didn’t want to let this chance go. 

Slowly, he felt his hand move of its own accord, until it twined, lightly with Melissa’s. She didn’t start at the action like he’d expected, instead she squeezed his hand back. Scott and Stiles had already turned back, but Scott shot his brother a thumbs up that Stiles happily returned. 

TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW-TW

A week later, Melissa showed up at the station. Or she sat in her car outside of the station, waiting for a minute, then fifteen. “Come on, Mel. Come on.”

A tap on her window made her jump, but then she smiled. 

“You okay, Mel?” Tara’s voice was a welcome distraction. 

“Yeah, I was just…”

“Coming to drop off dinner?” Tara nodded at the bag in Melissa’s passenger seat, “Stiles okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s good. I just thought I’d give him a night off.”

“Come on in, then” Tara stepped away from Melissa’s car door, gesturing for the nurse to step out. 

“Actually, maybe you could?”

“Aww, hell no. After all these years, I want to cash in on some of Scott and Stiles’ betting pools. I’m not going to let you get out of this one.”

“You sound like Claudia,” muttered Mel.

“I’ll take that compliment. Go on, Melissa. The rest of us are on break for the next half hour, we’ll keep things quiet.”

Melissa stepped out of the car, clutching the food tightly in her hands and strode forward toward the station. 

John shuffled some papers on his desk, stretching as he checked the clock. He’d promised Stiles he would make sure he ate once a shift. He needed to make sure he ate soon. 

A knock sounded at his door, “Come in” he called without looking up, only doing so when he heard his door shut. Melissa was standing there, a brown bag in her hands, and a tentative smile on her face.

“Dinner?” she asked, leveraging the bag as if it was a peace offering, “I thought it might be welcome.”

“You’re always welcome, Mel,” he said, “Although, I must say, I had wanted something more formal for this conversation.”

‘What conversation?” Mel asked, quirking an eyebrow at John.

“This,” John gestured at the space between them, “Us.”

“Us? Is there an… us?”

“I want there to be,” John confessed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Is that an option?” His voice was quiet at the end of his sentence, but he kept eye contact with Melissa. 

“I, I want that too,” Melissa confessed, a smile playing at the edges of her lips. 

“Well, then,” John moved from behind his desk to sit beside Melissa, “I guess we can call this our first date, eh Mel?”

He gently leaned over to kiss Melissa, who smiled into the kiss. 

“I guess we can.”


	27. An Envelope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets a letter. The pack plays tag. The whole pack is trying to figure out Stiles' name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

Stiles turned the envelope over and over in his hands. He’d gotten home before the rest of the pack and had holed up in Derek’s bedroom. He mused absently about how he should probably think of this room as theirs now, but that still felt a bit too intense. Although their relationship was just intense on a good day. 

“Stiles?” 

The Spark had been so caught up in his own thoughts that even the appearance of his mate in the doorway hadn’t piqued his interest, until Derek spoke. 

“My letter from Harvard came today.”

A smile stretched across Derek’s face as he walked into the room to settle down beside Stiles to hug the Spark. 

“I haven’t opened it yet, Der.”

“I already know what it says,” Derek told his mate, “Bet you fifty bucks.”

Stiles smiled slightly, shaking his head, but he didn’t make a move to open the envelope. He’d known that early acceptances had gone out; they’d held a party for Lydia the week before when her MIT letter had arrived.  
“What’s wrong?” Some of the lightheartedness went out Derek’s eyes as he took in Stiles’ chemo-signals – a mix of nerves and resignation. 

“It’s not fair…” Stiles muttered, shifting away from Derek even as the wolf tried to move closer, “I can’t just keep leaving, Der. It’s not right, it’s not fair.”

Derek relaxed. He’d thought something more serious might have been eating away at his Spark. 

“Sweetheart, you’ll come back. You always do. I’ll visit; the whole pack will visit.”

His words didn’t seem to calm Stiles at all though. If anything, Stiles got more agitated. The Spark moved off the bed and began to pace. The scent of his agitation stung Derek’s nose, but the Alpha stayed sitting. He knew that his mate needed to process everything going through his mind before he would settle down and come to the obvious conclusion.

“The last time…” Stiles paused momentarily, then resume his pacing, “it hurt you.”

Derek nodded. “The bond wasn’t accepted or fully-formed. That won’t happen this time.”

“How are you so calm about this?”

“Well, considering you haven’t even opened the letter yet, you could be panicking for nothing.”

“Nothing eh?” Stiles ripped open the letter, mouth set in a grim line, but as he read Derek could feel some of his mate’s tension melt away. The Alpha chose that moment to stand up and draw his Spark into a hug. 

“Congratulations, Stiles.”

“I thought…”

“I know, you wanted this, and you were scared it wouldn’t pan out,” Derek cut him off, pressing a comforting kiss to Stiles’ head, “but I still want to talk about this leaving thing.” He felt Stiles tense, but when the teen made no move to leave Derek’s embrace, he continued to speak. “I love you. When you left, it tore me apart – yes, because you weren’t here, but also because I knew you needed to go. You couldn’t have healed here. I couldn’t have healed either. It was what we needed. I never want you to feel like I will hold you back, baby.”

“You make me better, Der.”

“No, you make you better. I’m just lucky to have a front-row seat to it all.”

They stayed wrapped up in each other for another moment or two, before separating. Derek couldn’t resist capturing Stiles’ lips in a sweet kiss. 

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Der.”

“You still owe me fifty bucks though,” Derek remarked lightly, and as Stiles squawked in indignation the Alpha darted out the door of their room with Stiles hot on his heels. 

The pack came home to join in on the game of tag that Stiles and Derek had started, eventually all of them flopping down in the living room. “Not that I didn’t enjoy that, but what prompted that?” Lydia queried as stretched out on a couch.

Stiles blushed, suddenly shy.

“Stiles…?” Scott prompted his friend, curiosity evident in his voice. 

“Lydia won’t be the only moving to Boston,” he mumbled, “I heard from Harvard today.”

“Oh, thank God!” Jackson exclaimed.

The pack all turned to look at the beta.

“What?” he said, “Lydia’s been chomping at the bit to start looking for apartments and figuring out classes, but she wouldn’t do any of it without Stiles.”

“Really?” Stiles asked, a hint of teasing in his voice as he moved from where he’d been curled up against Derek’s side.

“Of course,” Lydia responded, flipping her hair and fixing Stiles with a pointed look.

“Well, my mom had an apartment in the city – we could look at it during break if you wanted?”

“Awesome!” Lydia replied, “Congratulations Stiles!”

“Yeah, Batman. Congrats,” Erica nudged him with her head, while Boyd held out his fist for a fist-bump. Scott of course got up and hugged Stiles tightly. Allison called over congratulations as they all got a laugh out of Scott tickling his best friend. 

“Dare I even ask?” Melissa wandered into the Hale House living room as her lips twitched watching her boys tussle. 

“Good news,” Derek told her, laughing aloud as Stiles got the upper-hand on Scott and they finally broke apart. 

“I’m so proud of you, bro,” Scott rumbled, pulling Stiles into a hug. 

“God, we’re such an emotionally healthy pack,” Peter remarked quietly as he wandered into the room, “Also, what news?”

The whole pack turned to look at Stiles who blushed again, but when he spoke, his voice was steady “I got into Harvard.”

“Stiles!” Melissa pulled her other son into a tight hug, “I’m so happy for you!”

“Well done, pup,” Peter told him after Melissa released him. 

“Have you told your dad yet?” Melissa asked, eyes shining in excitement. 

“Not yet,” Stiles told her, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, “I figured I’d tell him tonight.”

“Tell who what?” Chris and John walked into the living room, taking in the bright smiles on the faces of the pack.

“This is like a sitcom plot,” Stiles muttered, “Everyone coming in one after another.”

“Do I even want to know?” John asked, eyebrows raised as he took in the room. 

“I think you do,” Chris told his friend, he could feel Peter’s excitement through their bond.

“So, when are we going to visit the Boston apartment?”

Stiles’ smile widened.

“How’d you know?”

“I always knew you’d get in.”

John came over to pull Stiles into a tight hug, “I’m so proud of you, Mica.” Stiles let himself relax and enjoy the moment. 

“So, just so we’re clear, it’s not Michael, right?” Chris said to the room.  
Stiles and John both laughed and shook their heads. 

“One of these days…” Derek murmured.

“Good luck with that,” John and Stiles said at the same time.


	28. Acknowledge and Accept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again, fluff, because classes are done and I'm happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

Stiles actively refused to have a big party to celebrate his acceptance, assuring his friends he felt adequately celebrated just being around them. For once, Lydia listened and only helped Peter put together a small dinner party the next night. 

Facing his future, his next steps had made Stiles feel a bit more grounded. He tried to explain why to Derek one night as they cuddled in the Alpha’s room. “It’s as if I know where I’m going… I have a goal, one that can be accomplished incrementally, but normally.”

“Since when do you do anything normally?” Derek huffed into the back of Stiles’ neck, “You’re anything but ordinary.”

“How do you do that?” Stiles murmured, feeling a blush stain his cheeks as he twisted to face Derek, “Say stuff like that just out of the blue?”

“Because I mean it,” Derek rumbled, smiling at his mate, “Plus, someone told me awhile ago that using my words is helpful in some situations.” 

Stiles tucked himself closer to Derek, smiling, but hiding his face. He felt happy and content, but an undercurrent of something that wasn’t quite unease plagued him. As he focused on it he traced it back, through their bond, to Derek who shifted behind him, suddenly antsy. “Der?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, baby.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Stiles’ head, but Stiles pulled away to sit up.

“Don’t… I can literally feel your emotions, don’t lie to me.”

The smell of Stiles’ hurt flooded Derek’s nose, and the Alpha sat up too, trying to pull the Spark back to being next to him. When Stiles moved just out of his reach Derek pulled back his hands, “I didn’t want to push it. I figured you’d tell me when you were comfortable with it, when you’d made your decision…” he looked up from his hands, making eye contact with Stiles, “The Council. They offered you a spot, right?”

“Oh...”

“Yeah, oh. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It was before…” Stiles trailed off, gesturing loosely at the space currently between them.

“And you didn’t think it would matter to me, baby?” 

“I wasn’t sure about it. I didn’t want people to think I was leaving again.”

“You weren’t sure, does that mean you’re sure now?”

“I want to take it,” before Derek could respond he rushed to keep speaking, “They’d let me consult from Beacon Hills, I made sure of it and I could network for the pack…”

“Stiles, I’m not against it.”

Stiles paused.  
“It terrifies me, definitely, but I know you and what you look like when you’re committed to something,” Derek tugged his mate’s hand toward him, “or someone.” Their intertwined fingers made Stiles smile softly “But what about Harvard?”

“I’m going to do both.”

“Stiles…”

“I can, I swear that I can Der.” 

“I won’t try to convince you otherwise, but I do insist on regular check-ins. You’re going to crash at some point and need more than Lydia to keep you functioning.”

“So much faith in me,” Stiles huffed in mock anger, but affection tinged his tone. “You’re really not angry with me?”

“No, sweetheart,” Derek squeezed their intertwined fingers lightly, “I know that you’ve got a lot of secrets, but I want to help you shoulder some of them, especially when they don’t need to be secrets in the first place.”

“You’re right, Alpha.”

Derek laughed, a bright and happy sound. “Someone mark the calendar; I don’t think you’ve ever told me that before.”

“Oh hush, Sourwolf.”

“Not a chance,” he paused, eyes sparkling, “Miguel?”

It was Stiles’ turn to laugh.

“No, wrong again, Alpha mine.”

“I’m going to figure it out. We all will.”

“I’ll believe it when I hear it.”

 

“Why does it need to be perfect?” Lydia asked her Alpha, eyes twinkling. 

“Because he’s perfect,” Derek muttered.

“You sound like Scott,” the banshee responded, causing the crooked jawed beta to squawk indignantly. 

Derek smirked, but didn’t refute her words. 

Lydia flipped through her notes, thinking idly that if someone had told her a year ago that she’d be helping Derek Hale plan out a date for Stiles Stilinski with the help of Scott McCall she’d have laughed herself silly.

“But you two have been going out weekly since you got together right? So, why the more fancy moves now?” Scott asked, his voice holding a hint of a challenge. It was something that Derek actually appreciated, how his mate’s best friend kept him on his toes. 

“The next stage of the courting,” Lydia replied for Derek, “Plus, it’s not like their other dates haven’t been romantic. So, what do you need us for?”

“What’s the next stage?”

“Acceptance,” Lydia replied again, answering Scott’s question, “Right?”

Derek nodded.

“But he accepted your initial proposal for courting months ago, right?”

“The acceptance stage is more about helping the intended understand that they will always have someone to rely upon, someone to have their back, to provide for them,” Chris inserted himself into the conversation smoothly, appearing from behind a bookcase, although he only startled Lydia, “Peter started mine early too.”

“So, wait, you’re skipping a step?” Lydia interjected.

“No, he’s starting something early,” Scott said, then he looked to Derek, “So, the initial few months is what? A compatibility test?”

“Mostly,” Chris answered, taking a seat opposite Lydia, “Generally, that step is reserved for non-werewolf mates.”

“He knows about this though, right? He won’t want this sprung on him.”

“He knows, Scott.”

“He thinks it’s ridiculous, doesn’t he?” Chris asked, fondness in his voice.

Derek nodded, rolling his eyes. 

“I thought it was a bit too, but I could tell it was important to Peter.”

“Pretty sure, Stiles is doing the same.”

“So, what are your ideas so far?” Chris leaned back in his chair.

“Nothing seems right…” Derek admitted, “Hence,” and he gestured at Lydia and Scott.

“Well, I’ve been the only contributing thoughts,” Lydia groused, half-glaring at Scott.

“What about a trip? We’ve got Christmas Break coming up in three weeks, and a week off after Christmas.” 

Derek tipped his head in interest, listening intently to Scott. 

“Yeah, could make it a pack thing,” Chris murmured, seemingly turning it over in his mind, “That checks off protection, providing, and proving commitment.”

Derek grinned, “I think I know exactly where we can go too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts on where Derek would take the pack?


	29. Mixtapes, Keys, and a Map

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Melissa make progress in their relationship.
> 
> There's more fluff!
> 
> Stiles and Allison bond!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

“Why am I surprised that you like Matt Kearney?” Stiles asked as Allison turned up the volume on the mix tape she’d slotted into Roscoe’s CD player. 

“You should be expecting the unexpected by now, Stiles.”

“So, where do you want to go?” asked the Spark as he pulled out of the Cottage drive, heading off into the Preserve. 

“There’s a spot down by the waterfall on the west side that I thought might work well.”

“Sounds good to me, Ally.”

TW – TW – TW -TW – TW -TW – TW – TW – TW 

Melissa knocked on the door to John’s office, smiling when he looked up from his desk to grin at her. He stood up and crossed the room to press a soft kiss to her lips. “Hey,” she murmured.

“Hey,” he replied, “What’s up?”

“I just thought I’d drop by after my shift last night.”

John’s eyes narrowed, and he went to close the door behind Melissa, gesturing for her to sit down on the couch. He sat down next to her, took her hand in his, and he waited for her to tell him what was going on. 

“This is silly…” Melissa started, unable to look over at her boyfriend, she wasn’t a fan of that word. John had been her friend, her partner for so long, but there were definitely still points where she wasn’t sure of how to approach their developing relationship. 

“I can assure you, it’s not. If it’s enough to get you to drive over here after a night shift it’s worth talking about, Mel.”

“We just got a new doctor at the hospital and she’s looking for a house; she asked about mine, actually.”

John’s office went quiet in the wake of Melissa’s announcement.

“Okay,” John replied, slowly, a smile creeping over his face.

“Okay?! That’s it. That’s all you have to say?” 

“Yeah, okay, because” and as John spoke, he got up to grab something from his desk drawer, “I was hoping you’d agree to move in officially.” He held up a key, tied up with a ribbon.

“Really?”

“Mel, you just told me you want to sell the house.”

“I know I did, but…”

John came back over to sit with her, placing the key in her hand. “It’s an open offer, love. Whenever you and Scott are ready.”

“And Stiles?”

“Helped me pick out the ribbon,” John laughed quietly, “like five years ago.”

“I’ll talk to Scott.”

“After you sleep?” 

Melissa nodded, unable to keep a smile off of her face as he escorted her to the door. 

“I love you, John Stilinski.”

John froze, then he felt a sense of rightness and calm overcome him.

“I love you too, Mel.”

TW – TW – TW -TW – TW -TW – TW – TW – TW 

“So, when are you supposed to hear back from Wellesley?” 

“March, but I’m not super concerned. It would be sweet to be in same state as you and Lydia though.”

“Not to mention that their French and History programs would help you become an even more educated badass.”

“There’s that too,” Allison laughed at Stiles’ comment as they pulled up on the west side of the Preserve. 

“They’ve got a good Archery club too.”

“Have you been checking up on me, Stiles?”

The Spark shrugged. “I read everyone’s application essays remember?”

“You’re a good Pack Mom, Stiles.”

Stiles paused, quirking an eyebrow at Allison. “What?”

“Oops, I don’t think I was supposed to use that in front of you,” she giggled, eyes twinkling. 

“Pack mom? What does that even mean?”

Allison hopped out of the Jeep, closing her door and making her way to the back door to grab her archery kit. 

“You’re not getting out of answering that question, Ally!” Stiles hopped out after her.

“Come on, Stiles. You look after us, you make us food, you help us study, and you’ve put us above yourself so many times it’s unhealthy, but it’s because you love us.” Allison closed the back door to meet Stiles’ still confused gaze; her eyes softened and she put a hand out to grasp Stiles’ shoulder. “It’s a compliment, Sti.”

“But I don’t do anything more than what you all need,” Stiles said.

“And that’s why you’re Pack Mom, because you don’t even see it. Come on, I want to see you shoot some arrows.” Allison slung her gear on her back, walking away from the Jeep as Stiles stared after her.

“Come on Stiles, I’m not setting up the targets on my own.”

“Coming!” Stiles shook his head, grabbing his own bow as well as a thermos of hot chocolate and an extra blanket from Roscoe before heading after Allison; he didn’t want his favourite archer to get cranky or cold as she put him through his paces.

He’d do anything to make his pack happy. 

TW – TW – TW -TW – TW -TW – TW – TW – TW 

Scott tossed a lacrosse ball up in the air, lying down on Isaac’s bed as the other beta worked on his math homework with Boyd.

“Sup,” Jackson entered the room, dropping his bag down with a thump, and threw himself down on the bed next to Scott.

“What’s eating you, Whittemore?”

“Senior year stress, McCall.”

“What’ve you got to be stressed about?” 

“You do realize that our entire pack is going to go its separate ways next fall, right?”

“Yeah,” Scott replied, he stopped tossing the ball in the air, “But we’ll all be connected through our bonds, and we’ll keep in touch.”

“How are you so calm about this, McCall?”

“He had a freak with Stiles and Isaac yesterday.”

‘Shut up, Boyd!” Isaac tossed a pen at his packmate who grinned as he caught it.

“Plus, Stiles has a plan to keep all of us in touch. He was explaining it to Erica, who had her freak out two days ago.”

“And what about Stiles?”

“What about Stiles?” All of the betas looked at Jackson. “How’s he dealing with all of this?”

“He’s paying more attention to us than usual, but we’re helping him out where we can,” Scott replied, “Just trying to keep it lowkey, so that he doesn’t try to prevent us from helping him.”

“That’s actually a pretty decent plan, McCall. Count me in.”

“Thanks, Whittemore,” Scott replied, then he started tossing the lacrosse ball again, “Now, shut up.”

Jackson smirked, but rolled over to listen to Boyd explain something in trigonometry to Isaac.

TW – TW – TW -TW – TW -TW – TW – TW – TW 

“So, New York, huh?” Peter peeked over his mate’s arm at the map Chris was examining, “Is this part of our Alpha’s courtship plans perhaps?”

“You know it is, Pete.”

“I think it’s a great idea.”

“Scott came up with it actually, I was pleasantly surprised.”

“He’s not an idiot, Chris.”

“I know.”

“Then stop pretending to be such a macho dad; you’re better than that, babe.”

“I suppose,” Chris turned to pull Peter into a kiss, “You going to convince of how much better I am?”

Peter rolled his eyes but kissed his mate back. 

“You’re so lame, but I love you.”

TW – TW – TW -TW – TW -TW – TW – TW – TW 

“So, this pack mom thing…”

“Are you still on that?” Allison asked, as they loaded their gear back into the Jeep, she paused to look at her friend, “Does it bother you?”

“I’m just… I’m a little overwhelmed, I guess.”

“In a good way?”

“I think so…”

“That’s convincing, Stiles.”

Stiles sighed, leaning against Roscoe as his breath billowed out in front of him. Allison came over to lean next to him.

“You’re a good person, Stiles. A good friend, a good pack member, and from what I can tell, a good mate – seeing as Derek probably is definitely not the type to share.” She winked at him, making him huff out a laugh. 

“I want that position; I want to be the one to take care of everyone, but I’m scared too Ally.”

“And that’s okay. You’re still human, bud. It would scare me if you weren’t a little bit scared too.”  
“Good to know,” Stiles replied, “Now, let’s get home, Ally Cat. I’ve had enough of being out in the cold and shooting pointy things with my favourite archer.”

“And drinking your amazing hot chocolate, can’t forget that, Pack Mama.”

“Shove it, Argent. Get in the Jeep.” 

Stiles ruffled Allison’s hair before he jumped into the driver’s seat and the archer laughed, running around to get into the passenger seat.

Allison turned on her mix-tape again, cranking up the volume as she and Stiles drove back across the Preserve.


	30. Believe it, Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving, nachos, and love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

“We should establish a werewolf moving service,” Erica commented as her eyes swept over the empty living room of the old McCall house. 

“Nice idea, but a little conspicuous, no?” Peter commented as he walked by her, three large boxes held easily in his arms.

“I suppose,” huffed Erica.

“That’s why we’re moving at night, remember?” Scott reminded his packmate, bouncing on his feet as he surveyed the empty room. 

“Is that it?” Stiles leaned on the doorway, watching Scott bounce around in excitement.

“We’re moving in together, bro!” Scott exclaimed, bounding over to Stiles who nodded and smiled. 

“I know, buddy. I know.”

“Be excited!”

Stiles laughed, a smile brightening up his face, “I am, bro. I swear.”

Scott pulled Stiles into a tight hug as Erica and Peter started up the rented moving truck, the rest of the pack already at the cottage, unpacking. As Scott dragged Stiles out the door, the Spark paused, fishing a key out of his back pocket. 

Scott paused, watching as Stiles set the key down on the hook by the front door. 

“You still kept it?” Scott asked.

“You have your anchors and I’ve got mine, Scotty,” Stiles told his brother, ruffling Scott’s hair as they left. 

TW-TW-------TW-TW--------TW-TW---------TW-TW---------TW-TW---------TW-TW---------TW-TW---------TW-TW

Derek wandered around his room, fingers trailing over the spines of the well-loved books in his bookcase. His book collection had almost tripled since he and Stiles had started dating. His room constantly smelt of him and Stiles now that his mate had started leaving his hoodies and flannels there to keep the scent present. The Alpha couldn’t think of a time in recent years that he had been happier. He slotted a leather journal in between the books Stiles had read last. He hadn’t found the right time to give Stiles the journal he’d made in advance of the Spark’s 17th birthday full of stories and photos, everything he could remember about Claudia. He figured he’d leave it here for his curious mate to stumble upon. 

Turning away from the bookcase, Derek flipped open his travel folder trying to figure out if he was missing anything from the itinerary he’d planned for their upcoming New York trip. Stiles was excited, but Derek was nervous. He wanted everything to be perfect. 

“You’re going to give yourself wrinkles, bro,” he looked up to see Cora leaning against his doorway.

“What do you want, Cor?” his tone was playful as his flipped his travel folder closed.

“I was wondering when we were going to decorate for Christmas.”

“Is this your way of asking me to go out into the woods with you to chop down a tree at midnight?”

“Well, it is tradition,” Cora murmured, her eyes moving from her brother to the floor.

“How about Sunday night?” Derek’s voice was soft, he knocked a socked foot against Cora’s to draw her attention back to his face.

Cora smiled, “Half-moon night, just like mom used to do it.”

“Yeah.”

“We can bring the whole pack though, right?”

“Yes, Cora, you can bring Isaac.”

Cora rolled her eyes, “You’re bringing my future brother-in-law, Stiles, right? I just want to know I’ll have someone to hang out with.”

“You’ll have me,” Derek told her. Cora fixed him with an unimpressed look, “Okay, fair’s fair.” Derek put his hands up in the air, grinning at her.

“Now come on. Scott and Stiles just got back from the last moving trip and Allison’s whipping up nachos over at the cottage.”

TW-TW-------TW-TW--------TW-TW---------TW-TW---------TW-TW---------TW-TW---------TW-TW---------TW-TW

“Do you want to drown in cheese, Ally?” Stiles laughed as he watched his friend continue to grate cheese into a massive bowl.

“Maybe I do.”

A laugh sounded behind Stiles as Boyd wandered into the kitchen, leaning against the counter that Stiles was sitting on. “Pepper?” Stiles offered a slice of green pepper to the beta. 

Boyd took it, munching on it as Allison continued to grate cheese.

“You want help?” Boyd asked the hunter.

“No.”

“Okay.” Boyd responded, putting up his hands looking to Stiles. 

“I already asked.”

Boyd nodded.

“Erica picking out a movie?”

Boyd nodded.

“She better be done her history essay or Lydia’ll have her for it.”

“She knows.”

“Smart cookie that one.”

“I’m lucky.”

“She is too.”

Allison paused in her cheese grating to look at them “It’s amazing how much you can say with so few words.”

“Aren’t humans amazing?” Stiles replied, spreading his arms wide.

“We’re gifts to humanity alright,” Allison responded, starting up with her grating again. 

Boyd rolled his eyes, but willingly took another slice of pepper from Stiles. 

“Such a good provider,” Jackson commented hopping up onto the counter next to Stiles opening his mouth for his own slice of pepper. 

“Dork,” muttered Stiles, but he still gave Jackson a slice of orange pepper.

“I hope you’re not talking about me, Stiles.” 

Lydia strolled into the kitchen too.

“Never, Lyds. Pepper?”

“Nah, tomato,” she popped a cherry tomato into her mouth, “Allison, are you sure you don’t want…”

“Out!” Allison brandished the cheese grater at the four of them.

Boyd laughed, but pulled Jackson away, Lydia following them.

“Prep the tortilla chips.”

Stiles smiled.

“I live to serve.”

“I know you do,” Allison replied. 

They worked in silence, a comfortable one though.

In another half an hour the nachos were in the oven and Allison had gone to help Scott finish unpacking some stuff in his room with the supervision of Isaac and Cora so that no one got distracted before dinner. 

Stiles slipped outside, setting a timer on his phone so that he would get the nachos out before they burned. He settled onto the swing relishing the cool December air. He stared out at the forest surrounding the cottage and let his magic flow out in a wide sweep. 

“Can you believe our lives?” Stiles murmured as a warm presence settled in behind him.

Derek made a noise of inquiry against Stiles’ ear.

“I just never imagined life being this… good.”

“Well, believe it, baby.”

Stiles chuckled.

“Is there a reason you’re out in the cold?”

“This isn’t cold,” muttered Stiles, “And I don’t get cold like I used to, but this coolness is welcome.”

“You used to get cold?” Derek murmured.

“Of course, that’s what you got from that,” Stiles huffed and cuddled closer to Derek, “Yeah, I used to get cold when I was sad. It sounds ridiculous, but it’s true.”

“It’s not silly,” Derek nuzzled Stiles’ neck, “but I’m glad you’re warmer and happier now.”

“Me too, Sourwolf.”

Stiles’ phone timer rang out then, “Come on, Alpha. Let’s go eat with our pack.”

Derek stood up, pulling Stiles with him, pressing a quick series of kisses to the Spark’s face. “Our pack, I love the way you say that.”

“You just love me.”

“That I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While this is the end of this particular fic I am thinking that I'll jump forward and continue with this verse a few months from this stage.


End file.
